Schizophrenia

The moon shined dimly on Eliza Mason as she ran. She ran from the voices she heard, from her family and friends who thought she was delusional, and also from the pain of losing her husband and only child in the awful fire that burned down her house.

She ran for miles, till' her legs were about as good as pillows and her lungs ready to let go. She went as far as Avenville, which was about twenty miles from her, now former, home. The town was silent, everyone sleeping. She heard a dog howl but paid no attention to it. She walked in the cold lonely streets made out of dirt, wishing to find somewhere to stay for the night.

That's when "They" came. Their horses were all pitch black except from their leaders, whose was white. They were nameless horrors, their faces twisted in the agony they could once feel and parts of their bodies were picked off unlucky creatures. They were followed by the scene of the village in flames just before Eliza's eyes. The cold air washed away when the smoke set in where she stood, horrified that the creatures from her nightmares were real. Those monsters that had scared her for so long, that she had dreamed of every night, they were real. She screamed as loud as her defected throat permitted to, and then they attacked.




Layla Douglas woke up in a jump, beads of sweat dripping from her forehead, her mouth open in a mute scream. Her sheets were on the floor, and the moonlight was showering the room. She looked around her room, with its white dressers, king bed and balcony, it looked normal for the young 16 year old girl. Her room was still painted the same color as it had been eight years ago, a light purple with dark purple circles on it. Everything else in her room was white, but it was fine with her.

She looked over to the digital clock and saw that it was about to start beeping in 5 minutes, so she slammed her fist against it, almost breaking it in the process. She then groaned and turned around a bit, but couldn’t get back to sleep, and either way she had to get up for school.

Slowly making her way into her shower, she thought about her regular nightmares. They visited her every night, and she knew they were quite horrible. But in the morning she could never remember them no matter what. It freaked her out more than it should, she thought. When the hot water hit her, it quickly relaxed her stressed muscles, and for that she was grateful. She took her time, since she had gotten up a little earlier than usual.

While she was getting out, she began wondering yet again why she had nightmares every night. She knew it was normal to have them occasionally, but every night seemed a bit intense. Maybe it was because her parents were never home anymore, maybe it was because her best friend since elementary school was now jealous about how much money her family had, or maybe, it was because of her abusive boyfriend. Many people thought she had an amazing life, she got good grades, and she had a lot of money, she had many friends, the hottest guy in school was her boyfriend, and what else could she ask for? But they didn’t know the whole truth, her parents were never, ever there. They were always gone on some trip, often apart from each other. Her friends didn’t really care about her all that much. She was just someone who they could hang out with at school.


Layla looked at herself in the mirror, almost afraid of what she would see though. Her dirty blonde hair went past her shoulders and had multiple bangs in them were all tangled. Her green eyes looked too big for her small framed face, and her pale skin didn't do much to help her either. She had cuts and bruises on her body, made by Ryan, her boyfriend. When she touched them, or tried to heal them, they hurt like a b***h, so she usually just tried not to touch anything, so it wouldn’t hurt even more. She didn't think anyone knew about the abuse, and if they did, no one did anything to help her. Who would ever suspect that the perfect boy, smart, sporty, handsome, was actually a horrible abuser? The answer was no one, absolutely no one. And Ryan had warned her that if she ever told someone, she would get the worst beating she ever had.

She put on her regulatory school uniform, which consisted in a navy blue best with a white T-Shirt underneath and a navy blue skirt. She personalized it with a couple of bracelets, two rings, a pair of earrings and her necklace that her grandmother had given to her before she had passed away. She had told her to always wear it, that it would protect her. Layla was starting to doubt that, but she had loved her grandma dearly, and the necklace was amazing. It was made in real crystal and was blue.

She made her way downstairs, where her breakfast was waiting for her, still hot. As she started eating the bacon and eggs, made by the house keeper, her older sister Stacy walked into the room.

Layla and Stacy had never gotten along very well; they were two totally different persons. Stacy always cared what people thought of her, she made sure that she was liked by the majority of people by putting on a fake act, and doing everything to please society. Layla didn't give a damn about that stuff; she acted like she wanted, and people either liked or hated her for who she was, that was it. Ever since they were young children, they had fought. When Layla had a toy, Stacy always had to break it. When they were in school together and Layla was hanging out with her friends, Stacy came and stole them all away from her. And when Stacy was acting all high and mighty, Layla made sure to stomp on her parade, anyway she could.That was just the way they were.

“You're still here?” Stacy sneered. Layla gave her a dirty look, not in the mood to fight this early. She wasn’t much of a morning person in advance.

“Yes, unlike you, I actually eat once in a while.” She knew she had hit a nerve there. She almost regretted it, because Stacy was almost anorexic. But that changed when her older sister flipped her off, and stalked away to her beautiful red Ferrari that was sitting in the driveway. She was quite glad that Stacy had finished high school and she didn’t have to see her all the time.

Layla finished her breakfast, pulled on her jacket and knee-high boots, and stepped into the cool chill of October. She made her way to her slick black BMW, and smiled as the familiar hum started. She turned on the radio, it didn’t have many songs that she actually liked, but she didn’t feel like making any decisions that morning. She drove through the streets of the ‘rich’ neighborhood, as many people called it, and took her right to get to school. She pressed the gas pedal harder, because she was going to be a bit late if she didn’t hurry up. Plus, Ryan would ask where she was, and knowing him he’d make awful assumptions, and that wouldn’t result in anything good.

She pulled up in the school parking lot, and parked in her usual spot. She took her bag, slung it around her shoulder, took a deep breath, and stepped out to face the wrath of Midgewood Highschool.



Everyone was with their own little crowds of friends, and most of them all looked like each other. These stereotypes were very stupid, at least in Layla’s mind as she made her way towards her own group of friends. They were all against the wall, just as usual. Stacy and Karen were talking to each other, gossiping about anything their bat like ears could hear. Kyle and Shane were there too, although she wasn’t sure what they were doing, just standing there apparently. They had all became friends because they were all a bit of outcasts, she thought. She went to stand beside her best friend, Stacy. This last one ignored her, but tensed a bit at her presence. She was starting to avoid her, and gossip about her too, apparently. Shane had told her it was because Stacy was fed up that Layla always got whatever she wanted. Layla thought grimly how she would much rather have less money and her parents with her.

Someone suddenly grabbed her from behind, digging their fingers in her hips, making her cringe unnoticeably. She knew better than to make any other movement of pain. Ryan came into view, and her eyes averted to the ground.

“Hey babe.” He said while giving her a peck on the lips. She didn’t like that anymore, not one bit. It wasn’t like in the beginning, where she craved every moment he touched her. Ryan the ‘It’ boy, every girl wanted him and every boy wanted to be him. So, when he had asked Layla out, she thought it was a dream comes true. The most popular boy in school had noticed her, the outcast. She thought she was the luckiest girl on the planet. Oh, how wrong she was.

Luckily, the bell rang quickly, and Ryan didn’t have time to ask her why she was late, or harass her. Her classes went by fast, Layla sticking to herself. She missed Stacy, they had been inseparable since elementary school, and she was the only one she could trust, or she thought.

Layla was just sitting in her English class, dosing off, when she saw a woman standing in front of the class. She rubbed her eyes, trying to get the sleepiness away, because it was obvious she was imagining this. But even after she opened her eyes once more, the woman was still there. She was just standing there, looking angry. She didn’t look like anyone who worked at the school though. That’s when Layla looked at her outfit. It was something straight out of the 1980’s. She knew this because when she was younger she was obsessed with the medieval times. Her dress was a deep blue, and her chocker seemed to be a tad bit tighter than it should, because it seemed like she had a hard time breathing.

Layla looked around the class, but nobody seemed to notice that angry woman in the middle of the classroom. They just looked like their usual bored selves. She looked back at the woman, who was looking straight at her. Layla couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, she could barely breath. Her mind seemed to have stopped on itself because no ideas were coming to mind about what the hell was going on.

“You were supposed to come to dinner young lady! Where were you?! I waited years for you!” The woman yelled, and she continued to yell at Layla, while she just stood there, white as ever, her jaw almost to the floor, eyes as big as dimes. To say the least, she was horrified. And no one even noticed what was happening, they all had their same looks, none of them the same as Layla.

And that’s when Layla screamed. Nothing of the sort had ever come out of her mouth. It was the shrillest scream she had ever heard, and it almost sent her chills. But she was too busy gawking at the woman who was still yelling at her. Words came out of her mouth, but she didn’t know what they were. She could feel everyone’s stare on her, but everyone was still to surprised or shocked to do anything.

A few seconds later, and all went black. And she was falling, with no bottom, no way of surviving. But, she was just falling.

The young girl woke up feeling sick. She couldn’t really open her eyes because there was a bright light in the room that was blinding her. Once she was accustomed, she opened her eyes, and everything was white. She looked down and saw that she was in some kind of hospital bed, but not any one. Her wrists and legs were secured under iron handles; she couldn’t move them at all. She started to panic, and wiggled, but that only made pain shot out from everywhere, so she decided against it. Layla looked around, trying to figure out where the hell she was. She came to the conclusion that she was in a hospital or in something that resembled it a lot. The walls were all titanium white, and the sent of cleansers her senses. Layla was confused though, what had happened? Her mind was all foggy and she couldn’t recall anything. Maybe she had a heat attack or something. But still, that wouldn’t explain the cuffs.

The door, which she hadn’t noticed, creaked open to reveal a male nurse peeking inside her room.

“Good, you’re awake.” He said, looking relieved. She stared at him in confusing, but before she could utter a word, he was checking her blood pressure and her heart beat. That’s when she noticed the IV stuck in her hand.

“How long have I been asleep?” She asked, her voice croaking from the lack of talk and water. He passed a hand on his face.

“Three days.” He said, looking straight at her. Had she really been out cold all that time?

“Why am I here? Is this a hospital? What happened?” She asked, wanting answers. The nurse looked at her quizzically.

“You don’t remember? You passed out in the middle of the class, screaming things about an old woman and how you were sorry and it wasn’t your fault. Someone called 911, and they brought you here. And yes, this is a hospital. But, a very special hospital, for those who have serious disorders.”

She looked at him, but looked like she was in her own mind. It was like she wasn’t seeing anything at the moment. “So,you mean I’m crazy.”

Reviews

[metamorfosis]

Your story has plenty of potential. Your descriptions are great and flow nicely with the narration style and the plot of the story.

Your introductory paragraph was incredibly structured within the story and drew the reader in.

I'm not very fond of the title set as Schizo, because, in the mental health field, it's dimmed as a derogatory term to refer to patients with schizophrenia. But that's just me being a bit technical.

I noticed some typos such as the dress code for her school. It should be "vest" instead of "best". Also, the 1980s fashion was not of medieval times, just clearing that out because it brought up a quite funny image of a Madonna-like fashion and the term medieval mixed up with that image was sort of awkward.

Here is a detailed answer on when the medieval times started precisely: http://wiki.answers.com/Q/When_did_medieval_times_start

Aside from that, another thing you might want to look up is the immediate intervention of a Psychiatric guard. It's highly unlikely that after a simple episode of hallucinations, a patient would be interned into a mental health facility. The most common thing that could happen would be her waking up in a regular hospital, doctors talking to her, being assessed by a Psychologist or Psychiatrists through a Psychosometric test, then, upon further therapy sessions, being presented with the choice of a mental health facility. This choice would be presented to her parents only if the person is in grave danger of hurting herself or hurting others.

That's about it on which tips I can give you. I really hope that this helps you out, because I do see potential. Just a little bit of research on the topic and you'll have a much more solid story.

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Oh Wow! I love this! It's a great beginning to something mysterious and possibly scary! i like those types of tales. i love your description and the plot that has come forth thus far. I do hope you continue this!

Great Ink!
Tara M Stone