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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2198712-Simple-Truths
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Occult · #2198712
The experiences of an insane (or super-sane) woman in a mental institution.
In the air hung a fracture. The padded white walls and floor were lost on me. I saw none of it, only the glimmering of the abyss. I saw the light in front of me wavering, a hole into the otherworldly that I so desperately sought. I reached for it, and felt an unfamiliar, yet very familiar tingle dance upon my spine.


Ah. There. I lost the waking world in the inky mire of alternate realities.


I was exploring among the streets, roaming the twisting cobblestone roads and staring at the Victorian-era houses, looking for the exotic or the enlightening. The streets were all the same, looping over and over, forwards becoming backwards, backwards becoming forwards. I kept finding myself back where I started, and despite my efforts to go somewhere else, the streets always went in a loop, like an odd mix of a house of mirrors and a Ferris wheel.


A pair of ladies emerged from a reappearing shop, and I felt the urge to speak of the esoteric with them. My brain tingled with the possibility.


They spoke in hushed tones. "Did you see his ADORABLE little tentacles?" One of the ladies said, petting her teacup dog while speaking to the other.


"Dog?" I thought, watching the dog morph into a dog-like creature, with tentacles for limbs and tiny ones gracing its face.


I gasped, my mind set reeling.


The two women looked at me, and I saw their skin turning green, their eyes setting deeper, their gazes cutting deep—


I was no longer in the winding, repeating streets with the occultic women. I stood in a club, speaking to a man about whispers I'd heard on the wind, secrets of nature known only by those worthy. He knew.


"This secret is unrepeatable," I whispered, my eyes bulging out of my skull at him. "You must keep QUIET," I insisted rashly. My erudition was not sufficient to convince him of the true realities, and I was backpedaling from this interaction.


He simply shook his head.


"Crazy lady," He sighed, although he'd been discussing it with me for the last ten minutes, at least. "Won't leave me the fuck alone!" He nearly shouted towards me, his pose becoming more aggressive. He dusted off his black suit, and adjusted his tie. I felt my palms burning, burning with the desire to slap the insolent fool.


Sigh.


I lost the vision. Back in the room, with a new visitor, a man dressed in a psych uniform. "Are you lucid, woman?"


I glanced at the hole, the fracture in reality slowly closing itself. "More than you. You reside there, rejecting simple truths-"


"That's it! Stop! You spout crazy shit every time you talk, when you talk, and I've heard enough. You have a visitor."


A visitor? Nobody had came to see me in... as long as I'd been in this infernal prison. I saw the world clearly for once, the other realities not overlaying my vision. I stood from my cross-legged position, and mostly cooperated as I was escorted to the visiting center. In the hallway, I caught a glance at my reflection, and jumped at the sight of my own, unrecognizable face.


Wrinkled, and old. My eyes were wide and bloodshot, and my hair was longer, more frizzy and ash colored than I remembered. I shook uncontrollably as my eyes fixated on the stranger in the mirror.


"Th.. that isn't possible," I whispered, being tugged along by the orderly. "THAT'S NOT ME!" I screamed at her face, she copied in sync.


The orderly sighed, and trudged on with me in tow. I screamed madly. "IMPOSSIBLE!"


I stopped fighting as soon as I lost myself in thought. How long have I been here?


We arrived in the meeting room. The areas for "patients" and visitors were separated by hardened glass, and there were metal booths on either side, phones for communication. It looked like prison, much like other places did.


I sat on a padded stool, and cautiously picked up the phone. There was an older gentleman on the other side with salt-and-pepper hair. He dressed casually.


"Hello?" I greeted him cautiously.


"Sweetheart," The man began with a sigh. "I've been trying to get in touch with you for so long.." He trailed off, and stared me in the eyes for the first time.


"Who are you?" I asked, curtly. I had no recollection of such a man, but he seemed like he knew me from how he spoke.


"W-who am I?" He trembled, and I could see tears welling up in his eyes. "You've been catatonic for so long, and now you don't remember me...? I'm your husband." He sighed, his eyes cast down upon the metal booth.


I banged on the glass with an open palm in a sudden burst of aggression, borne out of confusion. "WHAT!?" I pulled on the phone cord, trying to break something, anything to release the tension in my mind.


Orderlies rushed to grab me, setting off the other man's tears.


"I knew this wasn't a good idea.. crazy bitch." One of the orderlies cursed me under his breath as they restrained me, binding my arms behind my back.


I leaned into their hold on me, giving no help to them as they drug me away, but also no resistance. My mind was racing, and I could feel a familiar ache deep within my skull. The feeling examined revealed itself to be almost like a lock, and I felt for the key, but it was nowhere within grasp. I soon realized I wasn't on the outside of the lock, but rather the inside.


"There she goes again," I heard, though the voice sounded muddled by the barrier within my own mind.


Then, there was nothing.
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