Schizophrenia

Chapter 5

I had returned to hell. Staring blankly at the ceiling was the only thing I had the energy to do. The sedative having not yet worn off entirely. The tears still flowed freely.

What had I done wrong?

What had I done to deserve this?

You didn't have to do anything at all, Nicolette... The universe just hates you! The voices laughed. I banged my head against the bed weakly. We weren't allowed pillows. They wouldn't dare leave you with something you could suffocate yourself with. There is no way out.

This had to just be some cruel, twisted joke. I had my taste of freedom and now it was gone. There was nothing that could be done. I looked over towards a barren wall, my radio still playing in the corner. Over and over and over, the music from Erik's world played on repeat.

When I entered his world, I began to have flashbacks. Memories of my childhood. Before I was trapped in this place...

It wasn't much, just bits and pieces like names and places. Erik, Giry, Christine, Meg, and Raoul. The last name came with a foul association, for some reason.

But now it's all meaningless. It was only a dream, a hallucination. Merely a coping mechanism created by my mind, and nothing more.

Except, that isn't true.

It was so much more than a dream.

It was freedom. It was peace. It was sanctuary. Anywhere but here, I could be happy. Away from the doctor, from this godforsaken hospital, and away from the voices. Wasn't that a miracle.

And it was ripped away from me. As quick as you could snap your fingers, I was back here in this hell hole. I suppose I'm just meant to live out my worthless life here. That must be all I'm meant to on this earth. Sit and rot and be tortured by the doctors, nurses, and even my own mind.

I glanced at the corner to see my radio still playing the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack on repeat. I felt tears begin once more. It was just a painful reminder of what could have been. The freedom that was almost mine.

You stupid girl! Why would you ever think that you deserve freedom? You are nothing. You aren't even deserving to be released through death. You will never escape.

If I could only be free of Them, that would be at least some form of relief. The voices have been with me since I was a small child. For as long as I can remember, really.

The door of my room creaked open as one of the nurses, Clara, entered my cell. She is the only one in this facility that has ever shown me anything other than exceptional cruelty. Not that it was necessarily kindness, but neutrality, at the very least.

"Can I," I swallowed, trying to gain the strength to speak. "Can I eat today?"

"You know Doctor Roberts has you on a fast." The nurse said in a quiet, timid voice without daring to meet my gaze. The only reason she came in was to check my restraints.

"Clara, I'm going to starve to death." We both knew Roberts wouldn't let his toy die. She said nothing in response. They don't worry about dehydration, They constantly have fluids flowing into each patient through an IV.

Roberts had had me going on a fast for a week now. He says it's a new treatment, but in actuality, it's just a new way for him to torture me. There is no substance to my body. All I am is thin skin stretched across frail bone. My hair used to be long and thick and full. Now it's thin and a lifeless dull black.

Clara left my room without a glance.

At least Roberts would leave me alone for now.

~~~

Erik's POV

~~~

What did I just witness?

"This has to be some sort of sorcery..." I mumbled to myself as I stumbled backward. Leaning against a wall to support myself, I tried to process what exactly just happened. This girl just... disappeared. Of course, I've seen illusionists in my time in the traveling fairs, even I was capable of such acts, but this appeared to be much more than just a simple illusion.

There were no trap doors, I would know. Neither was there a curtain to hide behind. This girl that came out of nowhere just faded away right in front of my eyes. I didn't know what to think, and that was a fairly new concept to me.

Firstly, she appeared to have drowned in my lake like many before her, but for some reason, I was compelled to dive after her. As if some unknown voice had whispered in my mind, "Go."

Once I found her to be alive, she was too weak to function and appeared to be prone to seizures. This poor child has probably been forced to go through several exorcisms by imbeciles who could not tell the difference between unearthly interference and interference of the mind.

When she awoke and could function, I naturally began to question her like any sane person would do. But then again, I'm not a particularly satisfactory example of that. Nicolette, she said was her name. There's no way of knowing if that were true, considering she oh so conveniently refused to answer every other simple question I asked of her. I had no idea who this girl was or where she came from! Why should I trust someone I knew nothing of?

She did answer one question though, that was if she had the ability to play. And play she did.

It was one of the most beautiful things I'd heard. It even managed to rival that of my sweet Christine. The emotion in which she poured from the violin, it had such a power that only a person that had known true suffering could produce.

It was the same emotion I played with.

But there was something very, very wrong about her playing.

She was playing my song.

It was the Music of the Night. The song I wrote for Christine. I had been meaning to bring her here tomorrow night.

How could she have known that song?

There was no way she could have possibly heard it before, nor could she have seen the sheet music. She wasn't anywhere near it.

I was enraged. I needed information and I needed it then. She was a threat. When I began to question her once again, she continued to defy me and withhold answers. Had she been spying on me for the managers? What else did she know? Where did she even come from?!

At that moment, she proceeded to collapse to the ground and burst into another seizure. I tried to support her head so that she wouldn't injure herself further with her thrashing. That's when she just... faded out of existence.

I had no explanations.

But I will gain them.

Author's note: Sorry for the long wait. There's a lot of garbage that's been going on lately but I really wanted to write and finally got the chance to. I want to thank everyone who has reviewed and I would also like to clear up some confusion I've noticed. Yes, this takes place in modern times. No, this is not an accurate representation of mental institutions. This is a corrupt asylum that is run by a sadist doctor. I do have stories where I accurately represent them, but those stories are on Wattpad.

I want to thank everyone who has been reviewing, I love to read each of those reviews and see all of your thoughts on the story.