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It can't be

The young woman, barely twenty years old, sat before the wall, her trembling body shivering uncontrollably. Her once luscious hair was now gone, replaced by a bald head marred with numerous wounds. In the grip of madness, she repeated the same phrase over and over, as if desperately trying to convince herself: 

"Mirrors can't eat people! Mirrors can't eat people!" Each word was punctuated by the rhythmic thud of her head colliding with the unforgiving surface. Despite the torment etched across her face and the evident chaos in her mind, there remained a trace of her former beauty. It was as if the harsh realities of life, marked by hardship and tragedy, had slowly eroded away the vibrant features of a once captivating young woman. Yet, amidst the wreckage, a glimmer of her former self persisted, hinting at the radiant spirit she once possessed. The scene unfolded in a disheartening display, an embodiment of the immense toll taken by unseen forces on a fragile human psyche. The repetitive mantra, a desperate attempt to ward off an imagined threat, revealed the depths of her delusion. Each collision of her head against the wall was a disturbing reminder of her anguished state, as if the physical pain momentarily overshadowed the anguish of her troubled mind.

From the far corner of the room, Doctor Leblanc maintained a watchful gaze upon the young woman, studying her every movement and listening attentively to each word she uttered. With years of experience in the field of psychology, the doctor, an elderly man in his fifties, exuded a sense of wisdom and expertise. His tall stature and well-built frame defied the typical expectations associated with his age. His head, devoid of hair, shone under the ambient light, accentuating the spectacles perched upon his nose. Doctor Leblanc had encountered countless cases like this throughout his career, where the fragility of the human mind became apparent. His deep understanding of the complexities of the human psyche allowed him to observe the young woman's behavior with a trained eye. Every gesture, every word, held meaning to him as he sought to unravel the intricacies of her troubled mind.

In a gentle tone, his voice filled with empathy, Doctor Leblanc addressed the young woman, attempting to establish a connection amidst her tumultuous state. Adjusting the glasses perched upon his nose, he approached her cautiously, seeking to engage her in conversation.

"Sarah, can I talk to you for a while?" he softly inquired, his words carrying a tender concern for her well-being.

However, Sarah remained entrenched in her delusion, persistently chanting her mantra of denial. 

"Mirrors can't eat people! Mirrors can't eat people! Mirrors can't eat people! ".

The resolute repetition of her words echoed through the room, drowning out any attempt at communication. With increasing intensity, she continued her fervent assertion, oblivious to the pain it inflicted upon herself. Undeterred by her escalating behavior, Doctor Leblanc maintained his composure, fully aware of the profound distress that had gripped her mind. He witnessed her head collide with the padded wall, the sound reverberating through the room as a haunting testament to her torment.

Observing Sarah's resolute fixation on her self-destructive actions and persistent mantra, Doctor Leblanc recognized the need for a more intimate approach. With deliberate and gentle steps, he closed the distance between them, his concern for her well-being guiding his every movement. It was evident that she remained entirely oblivious to his presence, her unwavering focus fixated solely on her self-imposed anguish.

As Doctor Leblanc drew nearer, he knelt down, aligning himself with Sarah's eye level. This physical adjustment aimed to bridge the gap between their worlds, fostering a closer connection that surpassed the limitations of mere verbal communication. In this position, he hoped to capture even a flicker of her attention, however fleeting it might be in her distressed state.

"Why are you doing this? Please, speak to me," the doctor implored, his voice laced with a profound sense of sorrow. The anguish etched upon his face mirrored the depths of his empathy for Sarah's suffering. Yet, despite his heartfelt plea, Sarah remained steadfast in her self-destructive behavior, relentlessly striking her head against the wall and repeating her words of denial.

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Doctor Leblanc's grief was palpable, his eyes reflecting the weight of his concern and the sheer helplessness he felt in that moment. He longed to break through the barriers of her distress, to alleviate the pain she inflicted upon herself. The unanswered question of why she persisted in her actions gnawed at his soul, a puzzle he yearned to unravel.

Nevertheless, Sarah's actions persisted, as if she existed in a world where his pleas fell upon deaf ears. The doctor's sorrow deepened, his empathy mingling with frustration and a profound sense of urgency. He understood the critical nature of engaging her in dialogue, of creating a connection that could guide her back to reality.

Realizing the futility of immediate communication with Sarah in her current state, Doctor Leblanc reluctantly stood up, his gaze still fixed upon her distressed figure. He slowly made his way toward the room's exit, his footsteps weighed down by a mixture of disappointment and determination.

With each step he took, his resolve solidified. As he neared the threshold, he paused, his back facing Sarah, and spoke softly, his voice carrying a quiet determination.

"Don't worry, I will find a way to get you back," he assured her, leaving those words hanging in the air as he left the room.

With his departure, Sarah was left adrift in her own troubled demeanor, the weight of her distress consuming the room. The echoes of his promise lingered, providing a fragile thread of hope amidst the chaos that enveloped her mind.

Doctor Leblanc's departure was not an act of abandonment, but rather a strategic step in his quest to help Sarah. He understood that sometimes, progress required careful consideration and alternate approaches. Leaving her momentarily allowed him to regroup, to devise a plan that would help break through the barriers of her delusion and bring her back to a place of healing.

Doctor Leblanc strode purposefully through the dimly lit halls of the asylum, his footsteps echoing against the sterile walls. As he passed by other doctors and staff members, their curious gazes followed him, their brows furrowed in bewilderment. They couldn't comprehend why he persisted in dedicating himself to Sarah's case. In an institution filled with individuals battling various mental illnesses, hope was often a scarce commodity. And Sarah, having spent close to two years in their care without any noticeable progress, seemed to embody the notion of a lost cause.

Yet, Doctor Leblanc remained a steadfast presence, a lone beacon of hope in the desolate landscape of the asylum. Every day, he faithfully visited Sarah, his commitment unwavering. Despite the lack of visible improvement, he persisted in his efforts, tirelessly seeking a breakthrough that seemed to elude him. Each day, he left Sarah's presence with a heavy heart, weighed down by the lack of response from her. Yet, he returned with unwavering determination, driven by the notion that even the smallest breakthrough, a single word or gesture, could ignite a path towards healing. In the face of adversity and the doubt of his peers, Doctor Leblanc persevered, driven by an unwavering commitment to Sarah's well-being, refusing to let her slip through the cracks of the system.

Finally, he arrived at his cluttered office, tucked away in a corner of the asylum. Flicking on the lights, the room was suddenly bathed in a harsh illumination, exposing the disarray within. Books were strewn across the desk and shelves, papers and documents piled haphazardly. It was evident that organization had taken a backseat to the demanding nature of his work. Weary from the weight he carried, both figuratively and literally, Doctor Leblanc sank into his worn-out chair. The exhaustion of his relentless efforts etched deep lines upon his face. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he found solace in the silence of the room, seeking a moment of respite from the relentless challenges he faced.

His gaze fell upon a framed photograph resting on his cluttered desk. With trembling hands, he lifted it gently, the image coming into focus. The picture revealed a small girl, no older than six, her radiant smile capturing a moment of pure innocence. Her long, flowing blonde hair cascaded around her cherubic face. Beneath the photo, a handwritten message adorned the edge of the frame, its words etched with love and longing: "Your father will always love you, no matter where you go."

Tears welled up in Doctor Leblanc's eyes, tracing a path down his weathered cheeks. With his heart heavy, he whispered softly to the image before him,

"This can't be you, it just can't be."

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