***
The more Pat researched, the more he realized how difficult it was to find a surgeon he felt comfortable with to fix his Thought Conductor. He was too embarrassed to go back to Clive but he was running out of options. He had been sitting in his car outside a McDonald’s for an hour googling “surgeons in my area”. Finally, he landed on one result that seemed exactly what he needed. This surgeon had trained under the surgeon that Owen had hired to perform Pat’s surgery.
Relief melted over him as he realized that he might be able to get things taken care of and not continue dissolving into madness. It had been a long time since he had lived treatment-free as a schizophrenic. His symptoms had been so severe that he wasn’t able to live normally. He couldn’t go back to that place.
Since the accident, his goal had been to see Justice. Now his goal was to not see her. This wasn’t because he didn’t want her in his life but, having her back needed to be real and not just a hallucination.
To his dismay, the hospital where the doctor was based only took appointments over the phone. Pat grudgingly called their office and talked with the secretary about his situation. If Pat had believed in god, he would have said it was a miracle they had any openings. But what was even crazier was that they had an opening in a few hours.
“We actually had a cancellation today. Can you make that?”
“Yes. Indeed!” Pat had never been so excited on the phone in his life.
The woman on the line could tell and she laughed lightly. “Well, okay. I have you down as Patrick Sherwood for 2 pm.”
“That isn’t a good idea.” Justice chimed in as Pat ended the call.
Pat’s heart skipped a beat even though on the outside he was still composed. He looked beside him and Justice sat in the passenger’s seat. Her beautiful red hair cascaded over her shoulder, the tips touching the middle console of the car. Her eyes were bright and sharp as she examined him.
“I need to be sane. I need to be able to see you for real. This is not the real you.” Pat stammered.
“It is the real me.” She said.
“You say that every time.” He closed his eyes and laid his head on the driver’s side window. “I’m trying to understand. I want to believe.”
“I know, love.” Justice’s voice was caring and genuine.
Pat could feel the familiar longing in his heart for things to be back to normal. “Is my Dad with you? Wherever you are?”
“I don’t know.” Justice said sadly.
“Is there an afterlife like the Christians say?”
“I’m not dead, Patty. I’m right here.” There was an edge to her voice that hadn’t been there before.
He didn’t say anything as he buckled his seatbelt but internally he wasn’t convinced this woman beside him was his actual wife. He knew it would be no use arguing with her though. It was basically arguing with his messed-up mind.
Despite Justice’s warnings and complaints, he drove to the doctor’s office. This was going to be the first step to getting things taken care of. He just needed to be able to think rationally again. He knew he would never be able to fully enjoy Justice’s presence because he knew she wasn’t real.
When he parked the car outside Winston Wellness, Justice was gone. A tear escaped from his eye and raced down the side of his face. He hoped Justice would understand someday, but today it hurt him knowing she was upset even if she was a figment of his imagination. He wiped his face and roughly opened the car door. Ahead of him were glass doors leading into the place.
“Mask, sir.” Said the receptionist at the front desk. Pat realized he had forgotten to put his mask on so he quickly obliged. He imagined the woman must be smiling because her voice sounded warm and kind. “Can I help you?”
“Yes. I’m Patrick Sherwood.”
“Yes! I just spoke with you.” She began to type and her eyes quickly scanned the screen through thick-rimmed glasses.
“Could I see your ID and insurance?”
As she plugged in all the necessary information, she asked him to be seated. Once his ID and insurance card were returned, it was only a few minutes later that the nurse came and retrieved him.
His shoulders rounded slightly as he walked through the doorway and he barely listened as the nurse asked him how he was doing and explained what would be happening next. She did all of this while getting his weight, checking his vitals, and asking for a basic rundown of what was going on.
“My microchip has been knocked out of alignment.” Pat said simply. “I have schizophrenia.” He preferred to refer to his condition as separate from him. He never referred to himself as a schizophrenic. Pat was so much more than his illness.
“Okay! The doctor will be in with you soon.” Pat figured that this woman was also smiling. Everybody in this office seemed very friendly.
There was something that felt very juvenile about sitting on the parchment paper-covered exam table, so Pat chose to sit in the uncomfortable pink plastic chair instead. Three narrow windows were on the opposite wall right next to each other. Nobody would be able to escape out the windows in the event of a fire, but they let in some natural light without totally exposing the patients. The walls were light blue and blinking devices were scattered around the space. Some looked like security devices and others medical. Even though Pat worked in technology, he was not very familiar with these devices.
As he let his mind drift, he realized that he was drifting too far. It started as a roaring in his ears and then his vision began swimming. He touched his eyes but they were dry. He closed them and rubbed vigorously which did nothing but make them ache.
“Patty, sweetie. Come for me, please.” Justice returned and she was far different than he had ever imagined.
A long black dress hugged her willowy frame and tattered black lace hung from her bell sleeves and melded into a train of the same material. Her red hair hung heavy under a black thorny crown and dark circles bloomed under her eyes. The LED lighting seemed to flicker and dim upon her arrival.
He had never seen her in this way and that was the moment he knew something was breaking inside him. He could feel half of his mind cracking and slipping into an abyss. Screams enveloped him but he quickly realized they were his own screams. Dark wisps of fog oozed from the corners of the room and windows. The taste of blood was on his tongue and his chest burned with fear.
“Mr. Sherwood!” The words seemed to fall from Justice’s lips, but a part of him knew that it couldn’t be. “Patty!” She crouched gracefully beside his writhing form on the floor and pulled him into her arms.
Her body was cold like peppermint oil. Everywhere her skin touched his the cold spread and would not wash away, but he clung to her anyway. Darkness fell at his feet and wrapped around his ankles. It seeped through every opening in his clothes and began constricting each breath he took.
“I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.” He sobbed hysterically and began to hyperventilate. When he felt like his body couldn’t take it anymore, Justice let go of him and he continued to fall into the everlasting darkness below.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
IN ALL OF the days of her life, Harmony had never felt insane. Even in the depths of her anxiety and depression she still felt wholly in control of her actions. That grip on reality changed when she lost Haven. In her panic, she had knocked on a few doors in her neighborhood, but nobody had any idea of what she was talking about. When one of the neighbors offered to call the police, Harmony waved this idea away and muttered something about handling it herself. She didn’t want the police to think she was crazy.
At work the next day Harmony spent every free moment checking the news. She was beginning to feel like an accomplice to murder and kidnapping despite being innocent of either action. Her anxiety was barely staying in check and her productivity times were dipping. Ten minutes before clocking out, she began to feel the fear crawling up her throat and, when she swallowed, her throat was completely dry. Each breath was intentional. Each minute was focused on keeping herself from dissolving into panic.
