For Better or for Worse Chaps. 3-4
#2 of For Better or For Worse
Chap.3
I flew out from under my covers, gasping for air. Reaching for the top desk drawer, I tried to be as quiet as possible, but I knew that getting my pills was more important than letting the people in the neighboring rooms sleep.
Shadows crawled across the room, horrifying things that struck great amounts of fear into me. I opened the drawer and started rummaging for the orange bottle I needed so desperately, yet it wasn't there. I felt panic well up inside my stomach.
The shadows started moving toward me, and I knew I had no choice.
"Help! John!"
I heard footsteps across the hall almost immediately, and I backed into the corner. I couldn't help it, I had to scream.
"Help me! God help me!"
I felt claws shredding my skin, fire burning my body, and heard screams all around me.
I felt a hand force my mouth open as the shadows finally covered my entire field of vision, forcing something down my throat. I felt horrible things all around me, nightmares I can't even describe flying through my mind, and I will never be able to forget them.
After what felt like an eternity, I felt the pain start to fade, and I felt someone guiding me to my bed. I laid down and whimpered, as the horrible visions and feelings slipped away, and were replaced with exhaustion and blurry vision.
"Lucas," I recognized John's voice, "I am going to leave now. I am setting your pills on the desk. I have to go calm everyone down. You need to take your pills every damn day, 'cause hell knows I am not putting up with you. I don't know why you didn't take them this time, because you've always had a perfect record in the past, so you better not stop now, otherwise I'll just tape your mouth shut and your wrists and ankles together and watch you struggle. Hell, I'll record it and watch it every damn day, you worthless bastard."
I hated him. Ever since I met him I hated him, but since his parents knew my mother, I was stuck with him, and he was stuck with me. My mother had trusted him with an extra bottle of my medicine in case I ever needed it, but this was the first time I had.
"Go away," I screamed, "Go away!"
"Gladly!"
I heard him storm out and slam the door, and I began to cry again. I couldn't take this all in at once. The notes, my condition acting up, and now John hates me more than ever.
"I took the pills... I took my pills..."
I couldn't understand it. I took my pills every day when I woke up, when I ate lunch, and before I went to bed. I know I had taken them, but at this point I wasn't focusing on that. I was hoping that maybe the notes had been part of some dream.
I closed my eyes and waited for my vision to return to normal. After I while, I opened my eyes to look around.
The only thing that looked out of place was the bottle of pills on the desk. I rolled onto the other side of the bed, and felt something flat beneath me. I knew it could only be one thing.
"Son of a bitch!"
Chap.4
I looked at the paper for the rest of that night, looking for something to tell me who had written it. Being the guy that people come to for tutoring, I have seen almost everyone's writing, and I've actually gotten pretty good at recognizing who's the writing is, but this was beyond me. I usually needed at least three sentences to figure out a papers owner, but I quickly realized that this paper wasn't written by one person. If I had to guess, it was written by about... seven different people. The letters were all in different handwriting, except the words: I'm sorry, crush, feelings, and I. Those were all the same writing, or in other words, the same person wrote all of them. That alone meant something big. It meant that whoever wrote them didn't want anyone else to say them to me.
I kept trying to process that. Someone cared enough to write those words themselves. If it was a joke, I couldn't see why someone would take the time to do that, and throw off the rest of the letter.
"Maybe... Maybe..." I whispered to myself," What if... someone could have done that to... to throw me off, to make me believe..."
It occurred to me that talking to myself after a spike in my condition wasn't a good sign. I grabbed my phone from the counter and called Dr. Stevens.
"Hello? Who is this? Do you have any idea what time it is?"
"It's Lucas, Doctor."
"Hello, Lucas. You are forgiven for waking me up. What do you need?"
"My condition just sort of... acted up. I took my pills earlier, but the visions came just as strong as when I don't take them."
"What? Lucas, have you faced any stressful events recently?"
I glanced at the note lying on my bed.
"You could say that."
"Lucas, I am worried that your current medication does not have the capability to help you much longer."
"What do you mean?"
"Your condition is tied to three very specific things, emotions, environmental factors, and physical pain. You are in college now, which will be very stressful, and you will most likely face some sort of peer pressure, and both of these factors will add to how volatile your condition is."
"Do you mean that my medicine is useless now?"
"Not useless, just less effective. You must understand, your condition is very rare, although not altogether too different from other mental issues. This is why we have been able to medicate you at all. The similarity between your condition and others allows us to use your current medication to somewhat help you."
"So what now?"
"I have a few colleagues who believe they are coming closer to a customized medicine for you. For the time being, double your dosage."
"What do you mean customized?"
"Whenever data on your condition is collected, we can do more to help you. For the past seventeen years, I have given all the data I can get out of you to them, in hopes that they will be able to find a fully effective solution. They say they are coming closer."
"So... why didn't I know about this?"
"It was authorized by your mother."
"Of course."
"Well, if you have no further questions, I would like to go back to sleep."
"Goodbye, Doctor."
"Goodbye, Lucas."
I hung up and put the phone down, then took two more pills.
"Damnit, I forgot to ask him about talking to myself..."
I sighed and looked at the note.
"Why couldn't you just be a nightmare..."