Experiment of Madness

1-A Glimmer of Madness.-Dag

Two months ago.

I stood and shook the doctor's hand, noticing his worried expression. How irritating. I thought, as I tried to remain calm and composed. The doctor's concern had a tendency to irk me, but I masked my annoyance, keeping my usual cool demeanor. I preferred to keep some distance from people and their needless worry, but here I was, forced to deal with it.

The doctor's words echoed in my mind, "Mr. Torrance, I'd like to advise you again to choose another part-time job," his concern is evident. "In this hospital, we deal with mentally ill and dangerous patients." The doctor's words grated on me. I had already heard this lecture numerous times, and his concern felt like an intrusion into my life. I was more than capable of handling anything that came my way, but he couldn't see past his worry, his voice like an annoying buzz in my ear.

As we walked out, my cold eyes scanned the corridor, observing the mentally ill people we passed. A girl talks to herself, another one crying, another one held back by two nurses, all mentally ill. I watched them, feeling a cold detachment. Their mental struggles were not my concern.

The doctor's advice to find a different part-time job rattled in my mind. It was like an itch I couldn't scratch. He said I was too young.' I wanted to scoff. Too young? I had a far sharper mind and more intellect than most grown-ups. I felt the urge to open his skull and expose his mediocre mind, his thoughts, and his limitations, to show him his patheticness.

The doctor's words echoed in my mind, causing my anger to build. 'Too young,' they say. What a pathetic, closed-minded mindset. My intellect could surpass their limitations, my mind sharper, and more calculating. The thought of just opening his skull and exposing their pathetic insecurities was an attractive idea, but I resisted, suppressing the urge beneath my usually calm demeanor. I knew better than to let such thoughts get the best of me, but my inner thoughts were a dangerous storm, begging for release.

We entered one of the padded rooms. The room, with its walls padded in order to prevent harm, held a woman who sat on the bed, hugging her knees.

I watched her coldly, feeling a detachment from her struggle, this not stirring any pity within me, her pain seemingly distant from my world.

My mind processed the doctor's words, and the reality sank in - this was going to be my first patient. I felt a mix of anticipation and repulsion, my mind's inner world clashing with the reality of the present, my gaze cold. I observed the woman, this stranger, wondering how she had ended up in this state.

Ignoring the turmoil within, I turned to the doctor, shaking his hand, my expression calm, trying to conceal the storm in my mind. A cold mask hid my turbulent inner world as I nodded and walked towards my first patient, my face devoid of emotions.

As the door to the padded room clicked shut, trapping us inside, my gaze focused on her. The silence, broken only by her breathing, filled the air. The room, padded and monitored, felt too small, too constricting. The camera in the corner watched us, its lens like a third eye observing. It was just her and me, with nowhere to escape.

I flipped open her file, my eyes scanning her medical record. Drug addiction, multiple overdoses, and alive, it said. I flipped through the pages, her struggles and experiences with drugs. How weak, I thought, how idiotic to let oneself fall to such self-destruction, I wondered. She sat there like a broken vessel, the weight of her struggles visible in her , her fragility almost pitiful, yet hard to empathize with.

My eyes took her in, noticing her short black hair, her dark eyes, hidden behind dark circles, her face pale and haunted. She wore ridiculous unicorn pajamas, a childish contrast to her tired gaze.

A mix of emotions coursed through me, a combination of annoyance and dissatisfaction. I expected that working in a hospital for mentally ill patients during the summer break would present an interesting experience and a unique understanding of humanity, but to have someone like her as my first patient felt underwhelming. It felt like a wasted opportunity. She felt like a pitiful cliche, her illness not intriguing but merely a disappointment.