“Alex?”
Numerous voices call out his name through the headset resting on his shoulders. The screen before him flickers with various colours, as he dies in his game. His eyes blankly stare at the screen, but nothing registers within his mind.
Something is wrong.
Alex clutches the long brown hair on his head, feeling his synapses scream with swirling thunder. He throws the headset off of him and stumbles out of his dark room, into the poorly lit espresso-coloured hallway. The walls seem to close in around him with each step he takes, stumbling towards the bathroom at the other end. His efforts are futile, as the hallway stretches with every footfall.
When he reaches the bathroom, he flicks on the dirty lightswitch. Resting upon the doorframe, Alex staggers into the cheaply tiled bathroom. Deep-blue walls like the ocean at night cage him in and he closes the blemished white door behind him.
Oh god, why are they so blue?
His mind claws at his skin, trying to escape its fleshy prison. With his shaky left hand, Alex opens the wooden drawer underneath the dirty ceramic sink. A blue basket filled with various prescription pill bottles rattles as he does. Some of the labels have worn over time, while others appear untouched. He sifts through the rows of drugs, mumbling anxiously as he does. Whatever it is he is looking for avoids his desperate search like the plague.
Finally, Alex pulls out an orange bottle with tiny aquamarine pills chittering within. He pops the safety cap off and dumps two of the round pills into his calloused hand. They are so small he can hardly see them through his somewhat blurry vision. His chest burns with anticipation and anxiety, pulsating through his extremities. A familiar sensation, but not at such a calibre.
Hurry.
He raises his hand to his mouth to drop the condensed chemicals into the underside of his tongue, but something stops him.
“Wait!” an unfamiliar voice calls out. He scans the bright bathroom, yet no one else seems to be around. He yanks at the light blue shower curtain, producing the harsh sound of metal on metal. No one stands in the scummy tub either. Alex readjusts himself in front of the sink once again, before noticing something beyond the glass pane in the right hand corner above the sink. An unfamiliar person stands on the other side.
The strangeness of the situation fails to dawn on Alex and he croaks, “who are you?”
“Don’t take those pills.”
Alex looks at the tiny circles in his hand, his mind salivates at the sight of them. But part of him fights back. The thoughts in his mind spiral in a violent whirlpool, sucking him in. Each thought feels like an intruder occupying his stream of consciousness, out of place and aggressive.
TAKE THE PILLS.
DO NOT TAKE THE PILLS.
TAKE THE PILLS.
DO NOT TAKE THE PILLS.
An unending war rages across his grey matter. Both sides scream at Alex, desperate to be heard. However, something far more sinister is plaguing his battered mind. In between all of the indecision lies a blackhole. Something his mind can’t escape from. Something he can’t grasp. Something he needs the pills for.
“Why not?” Alex asks weakly, focusing on the stranger above his sink. The unfamiliar person shifts their brown hair off their face, emphasizing their fierce grey eyes. They seemed oddly familiar to Alex. Despite never having seen them in his life, everything about them lit up his mind like intense deja vu. The hair, the eyes, and even the voice; like a word at the tip of his tongue, Alex couldn’t figure it out.
“They won’t help you,” the stranger says firmly. Their glare digs into Alex, as if they were enraged at him.
“Hmm,” he clenches his hand around the pills, “what will?” The stranger’s eyebrow raises slightly at Alex’s words, then their mouth curves into a sly grin.
“Bathe in the darkness, embrace it” they demand. Alex’s eyes widen, confusion strangles his thoughts for a moment. He realizes what they are suggesting to him. Anger boils his red hot blood, burning throughout his hands and feet. Alex looks directly into the stranger’s eyes, his eyes fierce as theirs.
“Not happening.” He raises the pills back up to his mouth.
The stranger laughs derisively and raises their pale fist up to the glass.
Knock…
Alex’s eyes tear up as he collapses to his knees. The torrent in his mind intensifies.
KNOCK…
He can’t pull his mind out of the blackhole’s grasp.
KNOCK…
His mind gets stretched and dragged in, overwhelming his thoughts. He screams, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks. The blackhole floods his mind, corrupting every image and word in his consciousness. Nothing exists anymore, but the blackhole. No bathroom, no stranger, no Alex. Only the blackhole.
Unknown to him, his body collapses onto the dusty tiles. Phantom pain seethes from every extremity and every joint, but he can’t feel any of it. His mind has been sucked into the singularity, far beyond saving. Nothing reaches Alex any longer. No one is coming to save him, not even himself.
“Good…” the stranger mutters, staring down at Alex’s crumpled body. They chuckle lightly at the sight.
Alex’s clenched hand loosens and the pills roll around his palm, a strange sensation beyond his plagued mind. What was that? He questions, suddenly regaining his awareness from deep within the darkness.
Get up.
Stand up.
GET UP.
STAND UP.
Familiar thoughts flood his mind, pulling him out of the darkness slightly. Enough that he awakens from his stupor. Alex’s grey eyes shoot open and his hand clenches around the pills again. He wipes the tears from his moist face and staggers back to his feet, legs shaking as he does. His empty hand grapples the ceramic of the sink, holding him steady.
Anger radiates into the bathroom from the stranger. Their thick eyebrows are scrunched down, partially obscuring their fiery eyes. Alex meets their glare, returning the sentiment. Though the blackhole still pulls at his sanity, anger aggressively overwhelms his emotions. His hand tightens around the ceramic, nearly cracking the sink.
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‘Why did you do that to me?” Alex seethes, through clenched teeth. The blackhole in his mind desperately tries to suck him back in, but his anger seems to hold the darkness off. It wasn’t unlike Alex to get angry, but he hadn’t ever felt so much rage and hate in his life. He wanted to pull the stranger through the glass pane and strangle them, pulp them. Crush the life from them with his own two hands. The stranger shifts uncomfortably, as if they can hear Alex’s violent thoughts.
They slam on the glass again, “you need me.” Alex’s limbs go weak for a moment, as he feels the darkness flood his thoughts. It only lasts a moment, his anger melts it all away again.
“Explain” he barks, slamming his fist against the counter. His brain swirls with the intensity of his emotions and his breaths grow heavy.
‘Who’s going to protect you?” they argue. “When your food looks slightly undercooked, who’s going to keep you from getting sick? When you touch food without washing your hands, who’s going to remind you to throw it out? When you leave the house, who’s going to remind you to go back to safety? When you don’t feel like getting out of bed, who’s going to make you stay? When you think about taking pills that could make you sick, who reminds you not to? You. Need. Me.” Anger seeps through their every word.
THUD…
The stranger slams against the glass with all of their might. Alex’s mind suddenly implodes, corrupting itself within the blackhole. His consciousness dissipates into the darkness, along with his physical awareness. The mind of Alex ceases to exist within physical reality. His psyche no longer influences its vessel.
Alex’s body stumbles out of the bathroom, expressionless and emotionless. Its weary feet carry it back to Alex’s room. No light seeps from within, but the body doesn’t seem to care. It dexterously opens the closet in the pitch black and pulls out a lockbox from the top shelf, before returning to the bathroom. The stranger spectates gleefully as the body slams the black lockbox onto the counter and pries the lock off. It opens it and pulls something out; something exciting in the eyes of the stranger.
Deep within the blackhole of his mind, Alex’s psyche swirls around endlessly stretching and warping in the darkness. It toys with him, tearing him apart, piece by piece. Yet, something even deeper within seems to call out from beyond the darkness. A feeling – a sensation – desperate to break through.
Hope.
It was hope, the tiniest amount; a feeble candle in a universe of darkness. It called out to the pieces of his mind, drawing them back together.
Live…
Struggle…
Awaken…
Fight…
Alex’s eyes suddenly widen with life, awareness, and confusion. In his sorrowful slumber, what was left of his shattered mind sought freedom in the worst possible form. The taste of metal sours in his mouth, as he pulls his handgun from within. He takes his thumb off the metal trigger and flicks the safety back on, wincing at the thought of what he was about to do. The stranger is displeased at Alex’s sudden return.
Thud… Thud… Thud…
The stranger slams on the glass again and again. Their eyes are full of rage. Every slam is filled with the bitterest of hate. Yet, nothing happens.
Thud… Thud… Thud…
Alex watches as they continuously bash the glass, waiting for something to happen. The darkness pulsates within his mind with each hit, but it no longer phases him. Each thud only strengthens the light in the darkness.
Thud…
The stranger’s face shifts from anger to despair, an expression mildly amusing to Alex.
“How…?” they mumble. Alex scoffs lightly, as if the question was ridiculous. He gently caresses the wooden grip and places the heavy gun back into the lockbox. He clicks the lock back on aggressively, an unspoken message to the stranger of his failure.
“I don’t need you” Alex dismisses, turning away from the stranger. Suddenly, his mind clicks and the “stranger” is not so strange anymore. The brown hair that parts in the middle, the thick eyebrows, the grey eyes, and pasty skin. It was him, or some version of himself. The worst version of himself, if he listened to that side of him. The self hate and wish for death was a part of him he never wanted to experience, yet it found a way to sneak out from underneath his skin and soul.
Alex scoops the pills off the counter and pops them into his mouth, mushing them under his tongue as they dissolve.
“No!” Other Alex screams, a look of desperation plastered across their white face. They begin frothing at the mouth and clawing at their throat, desperate to remove the medicine from Alex’s system. Bright red tears stream from their bloodshot eyes as they choke on their own saliva.
Die, you piece of shit. I’ll be ready if you ever come back.
Other Alex’s body spasms across the dusty tiles on the other side of the glass. The familiar dusty tiles. Alex rubs his eyes and looks back through the glass pane, only to see himself looking back at him. Each movement he makes is mimicked at the same time by him. He sighs in relief and swallows the rest of the dissolved medication, feeling the darkness dissipate from his fatigued mind.
Only the light of hope remains. It floods every corner of his mind, cheering him on.
YOU’VE GOT THIS.
YOU’RE STRONG.
NEVER GIVE UP.
NEVER STOP STRUGGLING.
And from the centre of his mind, three words ring out.
It is time.
He opens up the drawer beneath the sink again and files through the various pill bottles. His hand almost instantly pulls out an untouched orange cylinder, packed to the top with oval white pills. The label is still in pristine condition and he holds it up to his bloodshot eyes.
Escitalopram 10 mg
Take once daily before bed. Use for treatment of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, and/or Panic Disorder. Do not at any point stop treatment unless told to by doctor.
Popping the lid off the bottle, Alex dumps a single pill into his palm. The thought that a single pill each day would solve his problems was astonishing, but he was willing to try. He tossed the oval drug into his jaws and washed it down with some tap water, satiating his dry throat. It slid down his esophagus roughly, leaving a frog in his throat. Anxiety settled in as the pill slid into his tense stomach.
You’re gonna be sick.
“I’m fine.”
Something is wrong.
“I’m okay.”
This was a bad idea.
All of the bad thoughts fade away, leaving Alex alone with his empty mind and the deafening silence of the bathroom. He glares at himself in the mirror, studying the dreadful look of his face and body. His shoulders are slumped and tense. His eyes are bloodshot and the bags around them are huge. Never had he seen himself in such a state before, it was disgusting. He felt weak.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Alex?” the muffled voice says through the door. The silver door handle turns and the door begins to creak open. “Honey, are you okay?” The door opens fully, his mother slowly pushing it open. Her eyes are baggy and she is dressed in her pyjamas, clearly woken up by all the ruckus. She regards Alex up and down, noticing the look in his eyes and the pill bottles on the counter. Her expression shifts from exhaustion to concern.
Shit.
“What is going on?” she yells, her voice wavering. Alex quickly scoops up the bottles and tucks them back into the drawer, but when he shifts to do so she gasps loudly. He turns back around to see what is going on and notices that her wide eyes are locked on the lockbox. His body was originally blocking it from her view.
Tears well up in his mother’s light blue eyes, she looks as though she might faint. Alex picks it up to show her that the lock is clicked on and it is sealed tightly.
“I’m fine” Alex comforts, through a choked breath.
Am I cry– TELL HER.
TELL HER.
TELL HER.
He sighs and pulls his pained mother into a hug, “it was really bad this time, I almost…” Alex’s words teeter off as he hears her sob heavily into his shoulder. “I almost lost myself this time.” His mother pushes out of the hug softly and wipes her eyes.
“You wouldn’t have done it, right?” she asks, sniffling. Alex shakes his head.
“I don’t know…” he mumbles. His mother sniffles again and her expression becomes very serious and angry too.
“Alexander Reece Thompson, we are going to get you help” she barks authoritatively, “no son of mine is going to die before me.”
Alex rolls his eyes, “don’t do this right now, mom.”
“Bu-”
“Please.”
She sighs and nods in agreement, and pulls Alex into a big mama-bear hug. They stand there in their embrace quietly for a few moments, before releasing one another and wiping their eyes of salty sorrow. The anxiety in his stomach has dissipated, but drowsiness has set in across his weary muscles.
“Are you going to be okay?” his mother asks.
“Yeah, I took the pills. They should help.”
“Good,” she sighs, “goodnight, hun.”
“Goodnight, mom” he says, handing the lockbox over to his mother. Alex slowly trots back to his bedroom and shuts down his computer. His body slumps into his bed and he smiles.
I’m gonna be alright.