My Darkest Delusion

His warm tingling fingers skim the black rim that covers my right eye, the purples and blacks swirl together to create the most painful painting. His eyes show no sorrow or pain, but a look of content. He was happy that I was hurt. I shy my face away from him. It felt as if my heart was beating out of my chest, the constriction around my heart felt as if the circulation to my brain was cut off preventing me from thinking.
He stood at the end of the twin bed inside my room, just staring into me with a wicked grin on his once perfect face. I tried to back away as much as I could, desperately trying to scream for help. After what seems like forever, he lifts his hand up to me palm out waiting.
I shake my head feverishly at him, my fingers looping through the mess of brushed curls tugging at my scalp. I want him out of my head, even though he is all I think of. My love is no longer in there, truth is he never was.
~
Lorraine Morelle was once a bright and athletic teenager. Until at the age of 16 she was diagnosed with schizophrenia. She desperately tried to keep her life the same after her diagnosis and it worked for a little while until the passing of her grandparents. She then stopped taking her medications to prevent the hallucinations which contributed to her being institutionalized.
Now at the age of twenty, she spends her day sitting in the corner of a room staring mindlessly at nothing. Most of her days in the institute are good but sometimes she gets the occasional hallucination or delusion. All days are the same and mundane until a new face appears as a patient at the asylum. He was the epitome of perfection to her. He was instantly taken with her and her uniqueness. Their relationship soon blossomed and a feeling of companionship became a feeling of love. But what happens when he isn't who he says he is?