"You are a bloody wacko!", "Are you on medication?" , "Go kill yourself, listen to your imaginary friends". Everyday, every hour, every minute of every second they scream, they despise, they ridicule me. Everyone around me, no one loves me nor would they care if I were gone, everyone but one.
Her raven black hair would always grace through the air as she entered my stuffy apartment. Her deep emerald eyes had always brought sympathy but had also a flame that had created hope and not pity like the rest. She was perfect, beautiful and most important, she gave a shit.
A lower-middle class job, small apartment and severe debts caused by the dying of my dead mother. She couldn't just let go, she clang on to dearest life while slowly sinking into deepest death. All she had done was squeezed an excruciating 6 months of torture, and amassed a debt that would have last more than 6 years, on my income. Depression, isolation and pain, that was life, what little left of it.
What was the point of living? Her. Ellie, she understood everything, she accepted anything and judged nothing. We had met on the day my mother had left me. I had nothing, as I sat on a blue plastic bench provided by the hospital, there she was, looking over me as I sat. She said "Everything will be alright, I know how you feel". She had always made me feel so safe. She was my guardian angel.
Yesterday, this had all changed. As I sat on a park bench, having a cheaply made tuna sandwich, my colleague Tom, had decided to invade my personal space. Poking at me with his usual questions to compare my miserable life to his. Stupidly I mentioned her, in hopes of forcing him back. I kept going on and on and on about how we met and what she had done for me. Tom sat there, surprised, and thinking. Finally he uttered "I don't think she's real".
Tom had a worried look on his face, he had never cared before, why now? He said fearfully "We are almost there", he had driven me to a friend to try to 'fix' me, I had bluntly agreed just too see how far this would go. We had arrived in front of a glass door, on it wrote "Dr Jerry M." After hours of questioning and tests he had come to a conclusion. I have schizophrenia.
To solve these hallucinations was simple, either take enough medication to actually go insane or to 'get rid' of' it. This is bullshit. I was not about to chase her away, she is real, this is going too far. I turned from them, thinking of which train to take to get back home, the good doctor grabbed my shoulder and he said "Think, realise, change. You know I'm right".
With those words I lay here, waiting for her to come into my locked apartment, sit and listen to my problems, to care about me, to be here. They are wrong, what does he know? How would I know I'm not an illusion? How would I know they aren't illusions!?
It's almost 8, she'll be her any minute now.
A slow click of the lock, and there she was, beautiful as ever, perfect, too perfect. They are right, why would anyone care? But more importantly how did she always come in without a key?
She sat there, with the same sincere smile. I forced out "I am sorry". I dug a shard of shattered crystal into her beautiful emerald eye. As beautiful in death as she was in life. I felt wrong, but it was for my own good. I could almost feel her fading away. I was going to become normal.
A forceful thud was administered at the back of my head. My vision blurred, all I saw was her, looking at me with one beautiful eye still wide open in surprise. The voices were screaming through my head "GET AN AMBULANCE", "THE PATIENT JAMMED A PIECE OF GLASS INTO ELLIE", "What?? I told her not to get into the cells", "She's not breathing!" , "Oh god,Oh god", "Turn that bloody cartoon off! Who let him watch that", "Bloody hell, restrain him!"
I felt tight, restricted, but cured, I can't wait to stop these other voices, just wait, I will become normal, I can't wait to tell Tom and Jerry, they would be so proud. Just they wait...
