A Visitor to The Red in the Place of White

They sit together, huddled in front of the television. He holds her hand and she rests her head against his chest, listening to the rhythm of his breathing.

A scream. It is her. It is happening again.

They surround me again. Them, with their white masks and sullen faces. Their icy hands that grab at what doesnt belong to them. A question spins around the room; answers ricochet back and forth.
Stabilize. Manic. Incident. Harmful.
They play a game with their words as I pity their mortality. A arch of pain shoots into my abdomen. They swim in my vision.

“She hallucinates sometimes. She doesn’t know who she is and she is so destructive. I dont know how to explain it.”

He holds her hand as they walk into the hospital. She is frightened and the smell intoxicates her senses. She faints so she won’t remember anything.

“You have to stay. I want you to get better.”

“I’m looking for,” he swallows hard. “Cate Orlion.”
“She’s in room 23,” the nurse says. “A doctor must accompany you sir; she’s…dangerous.”

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