This chapter is no doubt going to be weird. Bear with me, I do have a plan! Also, please review. I am open to any ideas or suggestions you have.
She questioned her sanity as the figure came closer. Was it Hayden? Was it Ben? Was it the Rubber Man? Was it a ghost? The image kept flickering, kept advancing.
All of a sudden, Ben was sitting on the side of her bed. She let out a choked sob. She didn't want him to see her like this.
"I can't stay here."
Violet was sitting with Tate on her bed. She seemed distant, and Tate called her out about it. "What are you thinking about?" he asked, kissing her neck.
She sighed. "My mom. It's my fault that she's in the loony bin. I shouldn't have lied. I'm such a horrible daughter."
"No, you're not," Tate said. "This is for the best. Trust me. You can help people this way. You know, there are a lot of lost souls in this house who need help."
"I can help them, or you?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. "You're the one who told me to lie. I can't believe I let you talk me into this!"
"Vi, it was your decision," said Tate. "You made the right choice."
"I don't know. I miss her. Now I'm stuck here with my asshole dad. He's probably hitting on Moira by now. I hate him so much."
"At least you have a father. At least he's trying."
"What the hell is the matter with you? You used to understand me. Now, you're a total sissy. I miss the old Tate."
Tate stopped kissing her, shame and guilt flooding his thoughts. "I don't."
Instead of Ben, this time a doctor came into Vivien's room.
"Hello, Mrs. Harmon. My name is Dr. Richards. I'm one of the doctors in charge of your case," the man said. "How are you feeling?"
It took her a while to process the words. "I- Everything is blurry. I can't focus."
He smiled. It was a fake smile, used to reassure crazy patients. "I'm sorry. The medication takes a while to adjust to. What else are you feeling?"
"Stop trying to psychoanalyze me. I get enough of that bullshit from my husband," she said, turning her head.
He walked up to the monitors, observing. "I've decided that you do not have a mental illness. No schizophrenia, no manic depression. No post-traumatic stress disorder. You do not have the corresponding symptoms, you see. At least, the symptoms are intermittent and fleeting. One with a psychological disease would have consistent symptoms that have lasted over an extended period of time." He turned his gaze towards her. "However, something happened inside that house that triggered this reaction. I've heard stories, rumors. There is no doubt in my mind you have suffered a severe psychotic break. I have talked to your husband and we believe it is best that you go home soon. I have also talked to him about-"
"Hold on. You- you are going to send me back to that house?" Vivien asked, unbelieving. "There is no way in hell."
"Please hear me out. Ben has also agreed to stay with you until you sell the house. He is a certified psychiatrist and can help you. Until you have found a new place to live he is to watch you. Also, your security guard will be there for peace of mind. Of course, we are going to have weekly sessions, but they will be at your house. I want you on bed rest as much as possible. A low stress environment is the best thing for both you and your babies."
The entire time Vivien was shaking her head, mumbling. "No. Please, no. I cannot go back there. No… Please."
Dr. Richards plastered on another fake smile and headed for the door. "It was nice talking to you, Mrs. Harmon. Have a great day."