The nurses found me in my room. They gasped at my cuts and bruises and bandaged the wounds. I told them that I punched the mirror. One particularly maternal looking one asked why.
"I lost my best friend," I told them solemnly. "Probably forever." They attempted to cheer me up but this, of course didn't work. It couldn't. Not with what had just happened.
I had taken to staring at the ceiling blankly. Just laying there, not doing a thing. Time passed but I didn't feel it. I couldn't. The rage from earlier was gone. It was replaced by an emptiness one feels when you can't cry and rage at the unfairness of the world anymore. That feeling dominated my heart.
The mess upstairs was taken care of quickly. One moment, there was still yellow tape and construction workers everywhere, then they were gone. Of course people wondered what had happened. How could a whole corridor be reduced to such a state in just a day? But Xavier must've arranged something because before long, an explanation was given by the hospital's council: hooligans. Just hooligans. The fact that such a battle can be covered up by just one word, it still amazes me.
My mind was even more silent than the rest of me. All of my voices felt guilty that they'd inadvertently killed our friend. Their own existence caused this.
A nurse walked into my bedroom. I knew where she was despite me continuing to look at the ceiling. I'd been trained too well to not even know such a simple thing.
"Excuse me mister," she said politely. "You have a call."
"A call?" Now interested, I pushed myself up and sat on my bed.
A cordless phone was given to me. "Hello?"
"I just wanted to say something." I frowned.
"Xavier, what do you want?
"Thanks for saving her." He hesitated. "And... Me as well."
"I saved you for her sake." I said bitterly. "She lives at your school, doesn't she? Plus, if things go well then maybe…"
"I'll do my best. Even if you didn't do it for me... Thanks."
"This doesn't change things, Xavier. I still don't like you. Least of all how you treat me like a wayward child."
There was an awkward pause. I could almost hear him try to hold in the "because you are one".
"Chris, we're doing everything we can to help her. I won't pursue you. It seems I'm forgetting about the students right in front of me. Although, the next time Erik does something- I'll be there."
"I expect you to be." I hung up.
Of course, when a child breaks a mirror and injures themselves, hospitals tend to call their parents. My father entered the room, stress and anger prevalent on his face..
"What happened?"
"I'm okay." I said, completely bypassing the question.
"Electron," he snapped. "Your hand is now sporting a wound that was not there a few hours ago."
"It-" I tried to think of an alibi as fast as I could. I glanced at him standing there, muscles knotted in stress, fedora still sitting on his head, forgotten in his haste. I sighed, giving up. "It's glass from a mirror. Marie tried to kill me."
My father's face shifted in a flash, suddenly looking frigid and murderous. Yes, murderous.
"Do you have any other injuries?" he asked.
"No-" I tried to get more words in, but he cut me off by turning around and storming towards the door.
"She'll regret this," he fumed.
"Father, wait, please!" I knew what he'd do next. He stopped.
"No, Electron, this time I'm not sparing her. "
"My friend's gone already. I don't want what's left of her gone too!"
"She hates you enough to try and kill you and that makes her a threat to you." He turned around to face me. "Illness or no, I won't have her running about."
My heart jerked when I heard 'running'.
"She can't do that anymore." I felt tears drip down my face. "She can't even run anymore. I broke her spine when we were fighting." I stared at my hands, remembering what had happened only hours ago. Reliving it. Each time thinking of how I should have stopped it. How I shouldn't have let it escalate. How I should have neutralized my friend without destroying her spine.
"Good," I heard my father say. He walked up to me, kneeling down to dry my tears. "Your friend made a stupid mistake, and because of this, she died. Whatever tried to kill you earlier- it wasn't her. In the fight that you had with her you had a choice between self defence or surrender. Life or death. You chose to live and there is no reason to be guilty for that. Xavier is going to do the best he can for her, in the meantime, she- whatever is left of her is lucky to be alive." He sighed. "Look, I'm sorry it had to end like this. There's nothing you could have done."
"Thank you father- but the thing is-"
"No," he said sternly. "Whatever thing you are going to mention to show that you deserved it is irrelevant."
"What? But-"
"You could've walked into her room and lured Toad away with some diversion and I wouldn't have cared."
I was silent for a moment. "Wait, what? Do you-"
"Yes, and I don't care. You're alive now. As far as I'm concerned that's far more important."
"How?" I asked.
"I know you," he smiled.
I grinned a little at this.
I was sent home from the hospital that day. I was first greeted by my tail wagging black, white, and brown colored beagle, who raced around doing circles around me and putting his front paws on my jeans.
I picked him up and got slobber all on my face immediately. It made me smile.
Thanks buddy.
Despite my sadness, it did feel nice to be back in my room. Soon after I entered, I got a text from one of my teammates. She said that we'd won and taken gold in the state championships.
"Really?" I asked.
"Yes- we're having a party. My place. 8pm. Show up."
I smile at my her familiar monotone. "Thanks."
Surprisingly, I was allowed to go. I felt obligated to as team captain. I kept a brave face but they knew something was up. Most blamed it on my new injury and recent hospital stay.
Even though I knew the whole story, I felt like there was still something I had been missing the whole time. Was it really over? Were Father and I going to live normally again, or at least as normal as was possible for us? It couldn't be that simple, right? The change from drama to normal life was too abrupt. It stressed me out immensely and that night, my sleep was filled with nightmares.
The very next day, my father sat me down in his office and finally dropped the bomb.
"Tomorrow you'll be seeing a psychiatrist," he stated blankly.
"A psychiatrist?"
"We'll work on ridding you of your voices."
I stared at him. I'd expected it but not so soon. It came as a total shock to me.
"They're…" I stammered. "It's... hard to explain but it's not like you think. They're my friends and we've done everything together."
"'They'" he took a moment to put in some quotation marks with his hands. "Don't exist. What you're hearing is the result of a chemical imbalance that will be corrected with medication."
"I it-"
He gave me a stern look. "This isn't a negotiation."
I balled up my fists, wishing I could do something, anything.
I rose from the chair, shaking all over. My palm had barely touched the doorknob when I heard "Don't you dare walk away from me."
I turn around to glare at him. He glared right back.
"What do you want?" I said, challenging him. Suddenly, I saw stars. The umbrella in the corner had crashed into me. I wheezed as the air was pushed out of my lungs.
"Ever since you met that girl you've had a rebellious streak. Don't forget yourself." He shot me a look, hand still outstretched.
That certainly got my attention. I barely managed to talk through the pain in my chest.
"Yes, Father," I croaked. He dropped the umbrella.
"You will go to the psychiatrist and cooperate with him or her. You will take any medications given to you."
"Yes, Father."
"Good. Your mental health depends on this. Dismissed."
Well that's it. We're done. Logic proclaimed.
I- but I don't wanna die! Optimism cried.
You're not going to die dumbass. We're thoughts, remember. Not people. Rebellion retorted.
I don't want you guys to go either.
Guys, maybe it's better if we just listen to Mags. Look at what happened with Marie. Chris, what if your brains get scrambled? Wisdom said- well, something, for the first time in ages.
It was something I'd thought about but kept trying to push back.
The next day I rose feeling somber. First Marie, then my voices? After that, I'd be truly alone.
After breakfast, my father found me in a hallway and told me he wanted to talk with me.
"Yes, Father?"
"Electron, I do not pretend to understand to know how you feel," he said in a calm voice. "But know this- it has to be this way. Look at your mother. Do you want to join her fate? This is what happens when you can't separate fact from fiction. You may seem fine, but as time goes on the line can blur until you share her madness. Think of the destruction you could cause."
I said nothing for a moment, staring at the floor.
"I understand. Thank you father."
He's right. I have to. If anything goes wrong with me, imagine all of the damage I could cause.
As my father lead me to the car, he placed his hand on my shoulder.
"You're strong. You'll overcome this."
"I'll try," I promised.
I still don't know why Father chose this psychiatrist. It was prevalent from the moment we saw her that she could very well be the most nervous person on the planet. She sat down with a sigh, before remembering her manners, standing up again and motioning for us to take a seat first. I glanced at father as the ginger woman opened up her laptop. There was already a vein popping on his temple.
Oh boy. Optimism sighed.
"Auditory hallucinations you say?" The psychiatrist asked hurriedly, fingers flying over the keyboard, her body bent over uncomfortably.
"Yes." My father sat next to me, his tone stating he was clearly inpatient. He did not like repeating himself and he did not like humans. The combination of these things certainly didn't please him. Still, he'd put up with it for my health.
"How long?" She looked up, eyes sharp behind thick glasses.
"Umm. I-" I stare at the ground. The question was quite personal. Explaining my deepest thoughts to an absolute stranger? Explaining the world that existed in my head 24/7? How could Father expect that of me?
Thankfully, my Father was there to answer instead. "Far too long. He's had it as long as he can remember."
"Now that's unusual." She pushed up her glasses. "Most come as soon as they start to show-"
My Father automatically gave the psychiatrist a chilling glare as if to say 'you dare question my parenting.' Her eyes widened.
"I came here as soon as I heard about them," he glowered. "There are hundreds of them and he claims that they are his friends."
I flushed at the very accurate description.
"Wow. Now that's interesting" The woman tried to smile despite her fear. She asked, "Anything to add Chris?"
"No, not really," I stammered. With some tests and a few keystrokes, the prescription for my medication was all ready to go.
We drove to the pharmacy immediately to buy it. As we drove, I spent my time saying goodbye.
I wish it wasn't like this guys.
It's okay. Logic said. It has to be this way.
Yeah.
"What are you going to do, look at it?" my Father asked, looking at me from the shotgun seat.
I remembered why I was holding my water bottle and a pill bottle in opposite hands. "Oh- right, sorry. I was just saying goodbye."
My father frowned at the idea of saying goodbye. " They don't exist therefore there is nothing to say sorry to."
"I see…" I chugged the pill down with my water bottle.
Hey, we still exist! Optimism gasped.
Of course, dumbass! It takes time to work. Rebellion said.
I smiled at this.
My father frowned at me as if he already knew that I was smiling at my thoughts antics. I was certainly not supposed to do that.
Everyday my father was certain to make sure I took my medication. In fact, he watched me take it. He had no trust in me. Everyday, before I trained with him we'd got to his office he'd give the pill and I'd take it in front of him. Therefore, I couldn't forget about taking it, I couldn't steal it, or lose it.
I decided to go ask why he did this after I took the pill in front of him one day.
"Why don't you trust me to make sure I take my medication? You'd know if I were lying."
"You're not ready."
"Huh?"
"You'd be willing to do any number of things to get your 'friends' back. It's obvious from how you treated your mother and Rogue. No matter how much they hurt you you'll never be able to leave them for your own good."
"I-I" Bringing up Marie certainly made me feel a dagger in my heart. It still hurt to to think of my friend a week after our fight.
"How many close friends have you had in your life?"
"Just one."
"My point exactly. You cope with your loneliness with you voices I suspect. Imaginary friends that never go away. And I'd suspect even if you knew you risked mental illness you wouldn't care. No, you went along with it because you don't want your powers going rampant."
"That's exactly why." I said.
"After someone becomes your friend, you're willing to put yourself in danger for them over and over again. Namely, because you'd never had many. Well, I say no. It's time you learn to value your own life and realize you don't need those 'friends'."
I stared at him unable to process what happened. Of course it made sense but I didn't want to hear it. Not at all.
"I see. You know, I hate it. How it's getting harder and harder to hear the voices in my head. But I need to get rid of them. You're right. Thanks."
The voices became harder and harder to hear as the days went on. In 2 weeks they were just gone. I felt as if a invisible boulder of sadness was weighing me down. I had lost my friend, my voices, and my mom because I couldn't get to see her.
I decided to cope by going to my father's office and explaining how I felt.
"It will take some getting used to," He said.
I nodded. Even if I were given the opportunity to not take the pills I'd still obediently take them. I had to be sane.
"Father, are there any people in the Brotherhood that are my age too?"
"No, you're our youngest recruit. And beyond that no one else has clearance to know about your mutation."
Right. Of course.
"Today, perhaps you should go out with Toad. I recall you talking about a new computer game."
"Thanks," I smiled a little at the idea of going out.
My father had been trying to help me better cope with my loss by having Toad and I do things together. To extent it did help. Toad and I got along well and loved the same things. He was a good 4 years older than me but that didn't seem be to matter. It helped quite a bit.
In addition to that, my Father and I often went out after my training for the day was done. He did this of course to not only make me feel better but to also keep tabs on my mental health. I'd gone through too much. Far too much for someone my age. If I needed reassurance he was there. If I needed to a shoulder to cry on he was there. Hell, if I needed to vent and I accidentally yelled at him he'd not over react.
He kept me sane in the weeks following what happened at the hospital.