Page 57 of Heart Sick

“Don’t trust her.”

Who?

“This is a safe place,” says Dr. Greene as he shuffles through some cards.

But I’ve heard it all before.

The only safe place I believe in is when I’m playing music. And when Luna is nearby.

Today was progress. It was the first day I was able to play. But when the orderly took Luna away, the music stopped. And so did the voice inside my head.

Maybe I do belong in here.

“I’m going to show you a series of cards, and tell me what you see. It’s that simple.”

Simple? There is nothing simple about any of this. But I nod, humoring him nonetheless.

He turns over the first card which is a black ink spot of mess. I look at him, wondering if this is some kind of joke. But when he smiles in encouragement, it’s evident he is fucking serious.

It doesn’t look like anything, but I tilt my head to the side and sigh. “A banana.”

He nods with a stiff upper lip, giving nothing away. He turns over the next card which is the same inky mess, but a slightly different pattern.

“A butterfly.”

The next card.

I burst into laughter because this is fucking ridiculous. “A circus monkey riding a unicorn.”

Dr. Greene peers at me, but when he sees I’m serious, he quickly writes something down. “Very good. How did that make you feel?”

“I don’t know,” I reply, slouching back in my seat. “Confused.”

He scribbles something in his notes. “Confused how?”

“Not sure how ink blotches are going to help me, but hey, whatever floats your boat.”

He clears his throat, clearly not impressed with my aloofness. “I’ve read over your file, and I suspect you’re suffering from schizophrenia.”

Well, this is nothing new.

“I know you’ve seen a doctor in the past, but I believe you were misdiagnosed. With the right medication and treatment, I believe you’ll be able to live a relatively normal life. You’re in the right place to heal. I’ll start your treatment immediately and monitor you closely.”

“And what about what I want?” I question because what happened to free will?

He adjusts his silver-rimmed glasses. “Well, you’re not in the right frame of mind. So we spoke to your parents, who signed off on the trials.”

“Excuse me?” I can’t keep the bite from my tone. “I’m a grown-ass man. I can make my own decisions. And trials? What the fuck does that mean? These drugs aren’t even approved?”

“It’s going to be all right. You’re in a safe place.”

Kicking back the chair, I stand, placing my hands on the edge of Dr. Greene’s desk as I lean forward, totally invading his personal space.

“If you say that one more time—” I look at the stapler on his desk, wondering how many staples would seal his lips shut.

He recoils back in his high-back leather seat, clearly terrified. “I just want to help you, Dutch. Your illness has you believing the world is against you. The delusions, the hallucinations, they’ve grown worse? As have the voices in your head?”

How did he know?

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