Decalcomania

Pt2

 "Elyse, save him!" she pleaded. I stared at her figure still positioned as it was before, my body was shaking and my tears were flowing down my cheeks continuously. The air in the room wasn't enough for my lungs anymore, I felt like choking as I listened to every words she said, I couldn't even imagine all of these painful things happening to a little boy. He grew up in such darkness and misery for God knows why!

"Do you know why was he taken to the Juvenile Detention Centre?" my voice came out weak and shattered

"I have heard that he murdered his little sister!" she said, I could tell she didn't believe that and I honestly didn't believe it too, why would he do that in such age! He was fourteen years old for God sake. I bit my lower lip hard and stared at the wall, my head could no more handle all this amount of information. Suddenly, the image of his cuts came back to my head and led more tears to come out.

"He suffers from dissociative identity disorder!" she uttered, "save him from them, and save him from himself!" Her words were so heavy on my heart. I tried to remember how to breathe, unable to speak, totally stunned as the thoughts bounced around inside my skull.

I walked out of the room after I made sure she was peacefully sleeping. After all, she wasn't as lunatic as they reported, in fact, she looked more aware of everything surrounding her. and according to my knowledge to the Derealization disorder, there were no clear symptoms to be noticed.

As I was walking on the corridor, my feet landed on his door, I clenched my fists tightly, until my nails dug into the palm of my hand, but I barely noticed. The only thing I was really aware of, is the sound of my heart throbbing against the cage of my chest. I peeked from the small panel and watched him hugging his knees to his chest and hiding his face there, he was awake, unlike the other times.

I put my hand on the door's lock to see if it was closed, and yes it was. Somehow I wanted it to be not, I wanted to get there and talk to him. he slowly lifted his head up and threw his intense gaze on me, our eyes locked in the most uncomfortable way that you can ever imagine. His eyes were dark as caves, way too dark, black and expressionless, sharp and empty. His gaze was both of a broken angel and a bloodthirsty murderer. his eyes were giving a glare that was freezing my bones, I could feel myself being choked and burnt by his glares. But still, I couldn't take my eyes off of him, it was like magic, like he was possessing every inch in me.

"Hello!" my voice was so foreign to my ears, and yet again, what am I doing? breaking the rules.

His eyes were still on me, not blinking or even moving, was he even breathing?

I broke the eye contact and looked at both my right and left sides, making sure that nobody is around, especially Stephan and Layla. I sighed in relief and looked back at him, and there he was still in the same position, glaring at me like I was a prey. At that very moment, I knew he didn't like me at all.

"Elyse!" the voice flashed on my ears, making me hate my own name. I swallowed hard the knot on my throat and turned aside to see Stephan standing there while crossing his arms on his chest and burning me with his bloody eyes. where did he come from? I checked two minutes ago and there was literally nobody on the corridor but me.

"What are you doing there?" his question came out more like a reminder of the rules. I looked down at my feet "I was just passing by!"

"You may leave then!" he demanded, I rolled my eyes where he could not see me and walked away. I gritted my teeth, my face was red with suppressed rage, anger boiled deep in my system, as hot as lava. It churned within, hungry for destruction, and I know it's too much for me to handle. The pressure of this raging sea of anger would force me to say things I'm not suppose to say, or to express thoughts I'm not allowed to express.

I heard there was a library downstairs, so I walked there, hoping to find books about dissociative disorders.

I pushed the heavy swing door and went into a room full of books, my eyes settled on the rows of neatly lined up books with their spines facing outward. They were all medical books, sectioned on the row according to their content. I searched around for the dissociation section and fortunately I could find it. There were many books and my index travelled on each one of them until my eyes were caught by particular one 'The Dissociative Mind' by Elizabeth F. Howell.

I sat on the study table and opened the book, intensely focusing on every word she wrote, I wanted to find something in her book, something to help me deal with everything in my head.

"Patients with complex trauma may at times develop extreme reactions to something the therapist has said or not said, done or not done. It is wise to anticipate this in advance, and perhaps to note this anticipation in initial communications with the patient. For example, one may say something like, "It is likely in our work together, there will be a time or times when you will feel angry with me, disappointed with me, or that I have failed you. We should except this and not be surprised if and when it happens, which it probably will." It is also vital to emphasize to the patient that despite the diagnosis and experience of dividedness, the whole person is responsible and will be held responsible for the acts of any part." p174

This quote spoke to me in so many ways, and it irritated me to remember how these therapists are treating the patients here, can't they come down here and educate themselves before spitting venoms and useless rules up there. I sighed heavily and shut the book. I could no more focus on the reading when my mind was boiling with anger.

As I was sitting on the quiet library and thinking about everything, my brain suddenly threw a crazy idea on me, it was too crazy that I had no clue how I'm going to make it work. It will definitely be a risk to my stay here and even my life, but I have always been known to have a rebellious soul, and here I am proving it by applying this idea on real life.

I checked my hand watch and it was a little bit early to work on this dangerous idea yet. I checked my pocket and thankfully I had my Asthma inhaler with me, I surely need it for this mission.