~Second book of the Illusions series~
Isabel finds herself in August 1961, alone. The children of The Umbrella Academy were scattered across the 60s leaving her into the unknown. The threat of Swedish assassins and an imminent doomsday will make her...
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The people who had designed the psychiatric facility were in love with white. Everything was white; the floors, the ugly and uncomfortable uniforms and most of the furniture. Diego never really liked white before but he sure hated it now. The lack of colors made him think of how much he missed his family but mostly, he missed Isabel. She kept him up at night, he saw her in everything whether it was the music they would rarely play or in the sunshine that would often pass through the windows. He only wished to be by her side.
"Thank you, Alan, for bringing that to the group. I think fear is something we can all relate to." Dr. Moncton counseled. "Okay, who else would like to share? Anyone? Come on, who's next?" The doctor looked at Diego, who had been staring at the floor as if it were see-trough and decided to call him out. "Diego, you've been awfully quiet this morning."
"Just taking it all in, Doc." He answered. "Letting all the healing shit wash over me."
Dr. Moncton glanced at his notes before speaking again. "Last week you mentioned, what's her name again? Isabel?" He watched Diego move around in his seat and continued. "You mention her name often but never seem to be able to develop on the subject. Why is that?"
Diego shrugged. Isabel was always a touchy subject, one could even say that she was his kryptonite, his weakness, but Diego never thought of her that way. She made him stronger but to be honest, her absence left him with a terrible heartache. "I try not to think about her too much if you don't mind." He finally answered, sarcasm covering the last part of his sentence.
"Is there a reason for that? Does it bring you pain?" The doctor asked.
"You could say that." He said with a tight smile. "Everything about her is good, way better than I could ever be. She wouldn't hesitate to call me out on my bullshit. She... She was one of the only people who loved me for me."
"Was?"
"I don't know." He struggled. "I don't know if she's alive. Last time I was with her, she wasn't in good shape."
The man wrote down something in his notes and changed the subject. "What about your father? You were saying how your whole childhood felt like some kind of experiment."
"It was an experiment."
"Hmm." The doctor doubted him. "Or did it just feel like an experiment?"
Diego was quick to answer. "No, it was literally an experiment." The other patients in the support group were watching with interest, waiting for the situation to escalate.
"Let's dig deeper. You say your father is a villain."
"Hell, yeah." He scoffed.
"So you had to play hero to make Daddy mad." The man said, sending the girl sitting next to Diego into a laughing fit. He looked at her slowly, silently telling her to keep it shut.
