CHAPTER ONE
THE NUMBER OF people suffering from mental illness increased exponentially during the twenty-first century. As more things became automated and society spent more time in isolation, it was fairly normal for children as young as 9 years old to have generalized anxiety disorder or severe depression. The world had been holding its breath for some sort of savior. They looked to the government, teachers, healthcare workers, and celebrities for insight, but all had failed. The majority of society’s heroes had been outed as pedophiles and rapists, but Dr. Clive Evers perfectly filled the void left by corruption. Only “radical conspiracy theorists” thought his achievements regarding mental health were Satanic and questionable. Everybody else could not praise him enough. It had been a horrific three years full of suffering, but now in the year 2040, the majority of the country was happy and that was a miracle.
Clive took pride in what he was doing for his community and the country. The goal of perfection was always at the forefront of his mind and, unlike other religious individuals, he did not think this was an unattainable goal. With Christ, all things were possible.
These thoughts buzzed through his mind as he pulled into his reserved spot at Healing Touch Hospital. He pressed the ignition button and his car powered down. Electric was no longer the future but the present. Those with the most money and influence were expected to have electric vehicles, and car manufacturers were nearly at the point where they were able to offer more cost-effective options for lower-income families.
Dr. Evers took one glance in the mirror to confirm that his hair was still in place, there was not any food in his teeth, and that every hair from his chin and upper lip had been shaved off. He then put on a surgical mask over the lower half of his face and slipped out the driver’s side door. At this point, the continual mask-wearing was more for public appearances and less about safety. Since most of society was vaccinated, there wasn’t a need to wear them except in a surgery or in labor and delivery. However, wearing a mask had become a universal gesture of goodwill towards others and, as a medical professional and good Catholic, that is what he was all about.
Clive shivered slightly as a crisp breeze blew through the parking lot. The last remaining brown leaves rustled in the half-naked tree branches as if cold as well. The sky was completely clear of clouds but it still felt dim outside due to all the tall hospital buildings. His gait was self-assured and smooth as he made his way to the front entrance. The automatic doors whooshed open to admit him and a security guard was poised to take his temperature. “Good morning, Doc.”
The man’s name tag read “Dill” but Clive was certain he hadn’t had a full conversation with him before. He seemed to just refer to everybody in a white coat as “Doc”. Dr. Evers dipped his head forward in greeting but also so he was close enough for Dill to wave the contact-free thermometer over his forehead. “Thanks, Dill.”
“Going to save humanity from themselves today?” Dill teased.
“Of course.” Clive saluted in place of a handshake. Nobody seemed to shake hands anymore. Dill returned the gesture and turned to temperature check the next person entering the hospital.
The surroundings had ceased to be magnificent to Clive over the past 2 years he had been working at Healing Touch Hospital. The lobby had several blue sparkling tiles cutting a path through white marble tiles over the larger parts of the floor and leading to a fountain in the center. Streams of clear water squirted into the air and landed in a pool lapping lazily against the tiled barriers. Above this magnificent 12-foot-tall water display was a domed glass ceiling. Some of the pieces of glass were clear and others were stained. One of Clive’s main reasons for deciding to work at Healing Touch was because of the beautiful architecture, but unfortunately its beauty was something easily taken for granted. Dr. Evers craved lovely things since his job continually exposed him to the sickness of the world.
As he continued to his floor, people recognized him. Civilians waved to him sheepishly in the hall and Clive’s heart would swell with pride. If he hadn’t been wearing a mask, his signature crooked smile would have shone brightly. He was a beautiful man and worked very hard to keep it that way. His tailored white coat gave hints of his chiseled physique. His eyes were brown like a vat of melted chocolate and his short hair the color of wheat. He always was clean-shaven but even when he let his facial hair grow out, he still looked good.
Upon entering the elevator, Clive selected the third floor with his elbow. A sweet automated female voice said, “Going up.” The back of the elevator was all glass and, as it surpassed the second floor, he could see out to the courtyard behind the hospital. He let himself zone out to mentally prepare for the day ahead. He was tired but that didn’t mean he could stop to rest. Too many people were relying on him.
The ding alerted him to his arrival on the third floor and he rushed out. His work had always been busy but since he had become head of the chip implementation project, he had even more tasks to tend to. Even so, he always began the start of his shift by doing a pass-on with the previous attending.
“Nothing terribly unusual last night. The treatment seems to be working well on the new patients and hasn’t dipped yet in the long-term ones.” Dr. Shepherd informed Clive when he arrived.
“And no signs of high blood pressure in Ophelia?”
“None at all except when she missed the toilet sitting down to pee.”
Clive tried not to smile but that was typical. No matter how mentally sound she became, she would never achieve normalcy. There were certain things about Ophelia that society would always think were atypical.
Dr. Shepherd continued, “One of the nurses does want to speak to you about a shipment of new microchips. She was approached by somebody but she wasn’t certain if he was at the right hospital. It was a whole ordeal…Libby!” He waved at a nurse with a tall statuesque body and bouncy brunette hair bound in a tight ponytail. “Tell Dr. Evers what you told me.”
While she spoke, Clive could not see her lips move due to the double masks on the lower half of her face. She did pay specific care to doing her eye makeup and Clive noted that he liked the shade of blue she had used.
“So, I didn’t know if the chips were authorized.” She finished.
“I will check into that.” He said simply as he pulled out his phone from his pocket to input a reminder.
Dr. Shepherd smiled and said, “Well, that’s all I had. Do you have any questions?”
Clive shook his head and the two professionals parted ways. His first stop was to meet with Ophelia to see her progress for himself. He also liked to get her out of the way at the beginning of the day because she was the hardest case. He passed through several checkpoints, waving the QR code on his badge across the camera by each. He finally arrived outside a hospital room with a one-way window. He looked in and could see a young woman sitting on the bed twiddling her thumbs. Her stringy red hair looked as if it hadn’t been brushed yet and she chewed at her left ring finger knuckle with crooked teeth. She wasn’t easy to look at but this was the calmest Clive had seen her in a long time.
With a gentle knock on the hospital door, he let himself in and quickly nodded at a nurse nearby to follow him. A few beeping machines sat in the far corner of the room closest to the window which looked out onto several tall office buildings. Ophelia stopped chewing on her finger and looked at Dr. Evers as if she had never seen him before.
“How are you feeling today, Ophelia?” Clive asked, flashing a smile she couldn’t see.
“Lonely. Empty. I want people to like me but I need to like me…you know? I used to like me…” She trailed off and glanced back out the window.
“You liked hallucinating?”
“I had friends.”
“They weren’t real.” Clive corrected gently.
“I don’t have real friends now either.”
“You will, Ophelia! Your brain will be able to process things neurotypically so you can make friends, get a job, and enjoy your downtime at home. That’s why you volunteered for this trial.”
“But I haven’t stopped seeing things.”
Clive’s breath caught in his throat and he blinked a few times to try to organize his thoughts. This was the first he had heard of this happening. Up to this point, Ophelia’s hallucinations had become nonexistent and she wasn’t experiencing night terrors.
“I thought they were gone.”
“No!” She rolled her head back and forth and hummed softly to herself. “They have been visiting me.”
“When and where?”
“Well, just one. He is a snake that visits me in my dreams. His eyes are like my cat’s and he has a hook for a tail.”
Clive sighed internally. She was getting off subject like she did most days when he checked in on her.
“Could I get some water?”
“Yes…but the hallucinations?” Clive persisted as he signaled for the nurse to get some water.
