4
"As I was about to tell you before…", Dr.Monroe stressed with a disapproving glance at Alfred Bailey. "…we´ll start with the body therapy. This means that your daughter will be given certain medication which will influence her brain." "And that´ll make her normal again?", Mr.Bailey asked suspiciously. His wife looked up, her urge to hear good news for a change clearly visible. But the doctor had always been an honest man. "I wish it was that easy. After some time the symptoms will gradually vanish."
"But?" Alfred Bailey sounded almost hostile now. Dr.Monroe sighed. He knew this stage only too well. It occurred when relatives had to realise that he was no wizard who could give them their old family members back with a snap of his finger. "But we´ll need other forms of therapy. For these forms, however, the patient has to be more cooperative, and that´s where the medicaments help."
Suddenly Mrs.Bailey seized the doctor´s arm and pulled him closer. "You mean that when Maria takes the pills she won´t hear this ´Angel of Music´ again?", she asked, her eyes glowing with excitement. "If she reacts like most patients do …", he answered, trying in vain to break free from the woman´s grip. "What do we have to sign?"
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"You won´t get any yet because it´s your first day and the doctors´ll have to decide what exacty to give you." Angela started to enjoy her position as the one who always had an explanation. A nurse handed her a small bowl and a glass of water and went over to the next patient. "The pills are great, really. They make you calm, and the muttering in your head stops." Maria froze.
´Have you heard that?´ Yes, Christine, that was what I talked about earlier. ´But … they can´t make you go away, can they? I mean, you´re not just a voice in my head, you´re a real person …´ I´m as real as you are, Christine. ´Then why am I the only one who can hear you?´ It wasn´t the first time this question occurred to her, but before, without the imminent danger of losing him, she hadn´t dared ask. I chose you because you´re something special. ´Like you.´ Yes. The world isn´t worthy of us. We don't need anyone else. ´Who are you?´ I´ll show you…
For a moment I thought my eyes deceived me. But there was no mistaking: I could see a man standing right behind my reflection. Quickly I threw a glance over my shoulder. Nobody was there. I looked back at the mirror, where the picture had become larger. Through pearly-white mist I saw that he was very tall and that a mask covered half of his face. The whole scene was so utterly unreal that I asked myself whether I was only dreaming.
Suddenly the mirror sprang open to reveal the entry to a passage way. "Come!", the man said, and at once I recognised the voice of my teacher. Without thinking twice I took the hand he offered me and let me pull through the mirror. My wish to find out whether all this, whether he was real grew stronger. So I stretched out a hand to touch his face.
Enough! His voice cut through the silence like a knife and made the girl jump. Never before had he interrupted one of the scenes he sent her so harshly. ´I´m sorry!´ She apologised, though she didn´t know what she had done. It was my own fault. You´re not ready for the truth yet. ´I want to know the truth. What is underneath your mask?´ People who had seen it hated me. ´I could never hate you!´
