"After she left, I started hearing this voice inside my head, doctor! I-I know you told me not to listen to them, but it’s so hard. What should I do now?"
Samantha hummed thoughtfully as she jotted down key points from her patient's account. Setting her pen aside, she regarded him with a calm, professional demeanor. “Last time you were here, Mr. Rito, you spoke about your friend Bryan, who lives under your bed. Do you remember?”
The young boy nodded cautiously.
“And then there’s your girlfriend, Dessa, who resides inside the mirror in your room,” she continued. He nodded again. “And the mysterious tall man who appears suddenly, anytime and anywhere?”
He looked at her unsteadily, his eyes darting around the room. Samantha took a deep breath and glanced at the boy’s mother, who was staring at her son with a mix of disbelief and distress. It was her first time accompanying him to the clinic, and the revelation was clearly overwhelming.
“I have conducted extensive tests on your son, Mrs. Lopez, and the results indicate that he is suffering from schizophrenia. This is a chronic and severe mental disorder that affects how a person thinks, manages emotions, makes decisions, and perceives reality.”
Mrs. Lopez’s eyes filled with tears. “So, those friends he was talking about are just his delusions all this time?” Her voice broke, and Samantha nodded sympathetically.
Biting her lip, Mrs. Lopez looked down in frustration. “H-His father actually suffered from the same illness, which ultimately led to his d-death.”
Samantha pressed her lips together, having anticipated this possibility. The likelihood of developing schizophrenia has a genetic component. While the exact causes remain unclear, research suggests that a combination of genetic, physical, psychological, and environmental factors can increase the risk of developing the condition.
In Rito's case, his girlfriend's departure triggered a psychotic episode, compelling his mind to create Dessa as a surrogate to shield him from his emotional torment. He had been clandestinely consulting Samantha about his condition, divulging the abuse perpetrated by his late father, a factor that likely contributed to his developing illness.
Samantha prescribed antipsychotic medication to manage his psychosis, primarily targeting schizophrenia and bipolar disorder, and handed the prescription to Mrs. Lopez. As they prepared to leave, Samantha, adhering to her routine, escorted them to the door.
"Thank you, doctor," Mrs. Lopez offered a faint smile.
"Not a problem. Just ensure he returns in two weeks, alright?"
"Yes, doctor," she responded, glancing at Rito, who had been staring at the floor the entire time. "Thank Dr. Andersen now, Rito," she urged. Rito mumbled incoherently, showing signs of agitation. "Stop the mumbling, Rito. You know how I hate the mumbling."
Mrs. Lopez gently prodded him to bring him back to reality, but instead, he fixed his gaze on Samantha and suddenly seized her arms. She gasped as his nails dug into her skin.
"He's here!!" he wailed. "HE FOLLOWED ME HERE!"
"RITO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! LET THE DOCTOR GO, THIS INSTANT!" Mrs. Lopez tried to pull her son away from Samantha, but his grip was too tight. She stepped back, calling for help. Rito continued to shake Samantha, who did her best to maintain composure.
"He's here, doctor! He's here! He's here!"
Samantha forced a calm smile. "It's okay, Rito. Calm down. No one’s here. No one’s going to hurt you. I’ll protect you. I promise."
His eyes were filled with remorse and fear. "H-He's not here for me, doctor," he muttered, shaking his head. "You don’t have to save me, because he’s here for you."
For a moment, Samantha felt as though a bucket of freezing water had been poured over her. "The tall mysterious man Rito has been mentioning can’t be the same entity," she thought, her heart pounding. Even the mere thought of the creature made her flesh crawl.
Once Rito was pulled away, Samantha felt utterly drained, collapsing to the ground, trembling. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead. "N-No! It can’t be him. H-He can’t be back, not yet," she stuttered, biting her nails in terror. She shut her eyes when a chilling lullaby echoed in her mind once again.
"Tili-tili bom, ty slyshish', kto-to ryadom? Pritailsya za uglom, I pronzayet vzglyadom.
Tili-tili bom, vse skroyet noch' nemaya. Za toboy kradetsya on. I vot-vot poymayet."
Her eyes snapped open when someone placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Babe! Hey, baby! Are you okay?! Are you hurt?!" She looked up to see Scott. Behind him stood Kaiser, who had helped pull Rito away from her.
“Did he hurt you?!” Scott exclaimed, his voice laden with concern. He carefully removed Samantha’s white coat, and his face turned crimson with rage as he saw the scrapes on her arms from Rito’s sharp nails. The marks, accompanied by dark bruises, were visible through the thin fabric of her peach long sleeve. Samantha quickly pulled the sleeves down, trying to cover the injuries.
"I'm fine. This is quite normal for me. I-I’m used to it," she said, attempting to sound composed.
She tried to stand, but her knees were too weak, causing her to nearly fall. Scott caught her just in time, preventing further harm.
"Let's get you treated," he insisted.
"No, I told you I'm fine," Samantha responded in a slightly too loud, flat voice, standing up on her own. Scott, left bewildered on the floor, gave her a skeptical look, but she avoided his gaze.
“I suppose the boy's grip didn’t affect your brain, did it?” he asked in a slightly playful manner. Samantha merely rolled her eyes. "Let me ask you something," he continued, his tone becoming serious. He took a few steps closer, and she winced when he touched the same spots Rito had grasped earlier, forcing her to look at him. "What on earth is going on with you?" he demanded.
Samantha maintained a stoic expression. "Can you please just understand me?" she implored.
“Am I not? I’ve been understanding from the very beginning of this relationship, but this is too much!”
"Listen, buddy," she said, placing a hand on top of Scott’s. "I warned you from the start that our relationship would reach this point, and you clearly said you’d be fine with it. Now you’re complaining? You’re the one who got yourself into this mess!"
Scott bit his lower lip, unable to argue with her logic. "All I'm asking is for you to open up, so I can understand, Sam," he said, his voice softening. "That's all, but all you do is push me—and everyone else—away. You’re being unreasonable and unrealistic. Your lies, your secrets. I’ve tried to understand them, but why are you making this so difficult for me?"
Samantha felt her heart skip a beat as his words echoed in her mind, interspersed with random scenes from her memories.
"Weren’t these supposed to be my lines as well?" She thought to herself.
This was the first time Scott had raised his voice against her, the first time she had seen him truly angry.
"Then maybe you’re not trying hard enough," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
"Really?!" Scott scoffed. "I promised to understand you, no matter what, but why? Why can’t you reciprocate? Shouldn’t understanding go both ways?"
"Yeah, it should, if only we could. It’s just that our relationship now thrives on lies. What’s the point of understanding?" Samantha's voice wavered, and she drew a shaky breath. "If you only love me because you expect something in return, then maybe you don’t really love me at all."
Lips parting in disbelief, Scott stared at her. His shoulders slumped, and he looked down. Samantha felt his grip slowly loosen until he removed his hands from her.
"Maybe you're right," he admitted, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Maybe I don't."
His words felt like a sharp dagger to her chest, and she regretted what she had said.
"W-We really need to talk," Samantha's voice sounded weak and gravelly. "But not now. Not here. I-I have something to do."
"No. If you need clarity, now’s the right time, Sam," Scott insisted.
She stood, stunned by Scott's sudden change of demeanor. She knew she had pushed him too far this time, and all she could do was wonder where he stood. Turning around, she opened the drawer behind her, revealing a homeopathic herb cream to reduce inflammation on her bruises.
When she turned back, she found Scott standing in front of her. He took the bottle and placed it on the table beside him. Carefully rolling up Samantha's sleeves, he applied the cream to her arms.
"I vot-vot poymayet," the haunting song echoed in her mind once again, vivid scenes from the past flashing before her eyes.
"T-talk," Scott said sternly, closing the lid of the cream.
Samantha frowned but eventually shrugged and drew a deep breath. "I-I was thinking about us," she began, her voice trembling slightly. Scott remained silent, waiting for her to continue. "And the more I do, I feel like you and I together is unjust to both of us."
Scott’s lips tightened into a grim line, and Samantha looked away. "I'm sorry, Scott. Y-You know how much I love you, and it breaks me to tell you this but––"
"Then don’t," he snapped, his brown eyes piercing hers, empty of emotion.
"You think I haven’t thought about this?!" he retorted.
"Have you?" Samantha shot back, matching his low tone.
"Yes! But the truth is..." Scott paused, as if trying to decipher Samantha's thoughts. She remained impassive, which only caused his lips to tighten once again. "No matter how difficult it is for me, you’re still the one I want to be with for the rest of my life. Every single time, all I can think about is our future together, about what it’s going to be like once I can erase all this uncertainty from my mind. Why do you have to lie? Why do you have to hide your past? You know how much I love you. I just don’t understand why you can’t bring yourself to trust me!"
Tears began to well up in Samantha's eyes. She couldn't decipher if what she felt was pain, disgust, remorse, or simply a mix of emotions.
"LIES! Indeed. How can we both be such terrible liars?" She mentally asked herself.
"The more I think about it, the more I realize that the reason you've been hiding so much from me is because you don't see our future the way I see it," Scott continued, his voice tinged with sadness.
A wave of emotions washed over Samantha as she struggled to contain the tears threatening to spill.
"I actually want to tell you everything, Scott! I want to free myself from all these secrets that have been eating away at me. But I can’t! I can't let you know. Even though you’re a lying, cheating bastard, I still can’t bear to lose you in a way all of us are vulnerable for."
Her lips trembled as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I'm so sorry, Scott, b-but this isn’t working anymore––for us! I-I think we don’t quite measure up to the individuals we both needed, and I just can’t bear the feeling of being a disappointment to any of you and to myself anymore.”
“No, babe! That’s not what I’m trying to say,” Scott attempted to approach her, but she signaled for him to stay back. Never in her entire life had she imagined something like this would happen, but it seemed that things were better off the way she had chosen them to be.
“I know this is tough, but if we stay together,” she sobbed, her voice cracking, “we’ll just keep on hurting each other over and over again.”
“No, Sam! I love you, and I won’t do anything that could hurt you.”
“But you did,” she whispered, clutching at her injured arms. “Yes, I already know about her, Scott. You don’t have to lie.”
Scott stopped, his eyes wide with realization. "Y-You..."
***
Samantha turned abruptly when she heard Scott’s phone vibrating on their bedside table, indicating an incoming call from an unknown number.
“Babe! Someone’s calling!” she called out, but the sound of the shower drowned out her voice. Scott might not be able to hear her, so she took the phone herself. “It might be important,” she thought, swiping right to answer the call. She was about to say hello when a woman’s voice stopped her cold.
“We have to talk in person, Scott. I can’t keep our baby a secret anymore!”
Her throat went dry as her hand slowly lowered the phone. The woman on the other end kept speaking, but Samantha couldn’t comprehend a single word she said.