ZEN
I escaped.
Rain pounded against the windows, a relentless drumbeat that echoed the turmoil in my mind. I stumbled through the streets, my clothes soaked and clinging to my skin, my heart racing with adrenaline. I had to find Chief Ramirez, had to tell him about Noah, about everything that had happened.
The city at night seemed to press in on me, shadows flickering ominously with each passing streetlight. Every alley held the potential of Noah's lurking presence, his cold eyes and haunting words replaying in my mind like a macabre melody.
When I finally burst through the doors of the police station, gasping for breath, the receptionist gave me a puzzled look.
"Can I help you?" she asked, her tone polite but distant.
"I need to see Chief Ramirez," I said urgently, my voice trembling. "It's urgent. It's about Noah."
Her brow furrowed. "I'm sorry, but Chief Ramirez isn't here right now. Can I take a message?"
Panic gripped me. "No, you don't understand. Noah is dangerous. He's out there—"
"Ma'am, I think you should calm down," the receptionist interrupted gently. "Why don't you have a seat? I'll see if someone can talk to you."
I shook my head frantically, my mind racing. They were pretending not to know, pretending that Noah didn't exist. But I had seen him. I had felt his touch, heard his voice. He was real.
Ignoring the receptionist's protests, I pushed past her and ran down the hallway, my footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. Doors lined the walls, each one leading to offices and interrogation rooms. Where was Chief Ramirez?
I burst into an office, startling a group of officers inside. Chief Ramirez was among them, his expression a mixture of surprise and concern.
"Zen, what are you doing here?" he asked, his voice tight.
"I found Noah," I blurted out, breathless. "He's out there, Chief. We have to stop him."
The officers exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions unreadable. Chief Ramirez stepped forward, his gaze piercing.
"Zen, we've been through this," he said calmly. "Noah isn't real. He's a figment of your imagination."
I felt a surge of anger and frustration. "No, he's not! I saw him. He was in my house. He attacked me!"
Chief Ramirez exchanged a glance with the officers, his brow furrowed. "Zen, listen to me. You need help. We're going to take you somewhere safe."
Confusion clouded my mind. They were treating me like I was crazy, like everything I had experienced was just a delusion. But I knew the truth. Noah was real. He was out there, a threat to everyone.
Before I could protest, two officers approached me, their expressions sympathetic but firm. They gently guided me out of the office, their hands gentle yet insistent. I resisted, but they were too strong, their grip unyielding.
"Let go of me!" I shouted, struggling against their hold. "You have to believe me!"
But they ignored my pleas, leading me down the hallway and through a series of doors. The station blurred around me, the lights flickering overhead. My heart hammered in my chest, fear and disbelief warring within me.
They led me outside into the rain, the cold droplets soaking through my clothes. I stumbled along, my mind reeling with confusion. How could they not see? How could they dismiss everything I had witnessed?
The officers guided me into a waiting vehicle, its doors closing with a heavy thud. The world outside seemed distant and unreal, a blur of lights and shadows.
As the vehicle pulled away from the station, I pressed my forehead against the cold window, watching the city pass by in a haze. Tears stung my eyes, mixing with the rain streaming down the glass.
Where were they taking me? Why were they treating me like I was crazy?
The journey felt endless, the minutes stretching into hours. Eventually, the vehicle came to a stop in front of a large building with imposing brick walls and barred windows. A sign on the gate read "San Miguel Mental Health Facility."
No. This couldn't be happening.
The officers escorted me inside, their expressions solemn. I was led through a maze of corridors, each one identical to the last. The air was heavy with the scent of disinfectant and despair.
Finally, we reached a small room with a narrow bed and bare walls. They left me there alone, closing the door behind them with a finality that echoed through the empty room.
I sank to the floor, my back against the cold wall. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I tried to make sense of it all. Chief Ramirez, the officers—they had all turned against me. They thought I was crazy.
But Noah was real. He had to be.
As I curled into myself, the darkness closed in around me once more. Everything felt surreal, like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.
"Noah," I whispered into the silence, my voice trembling. "Where are you?"
But there was no answer, only the echo of my own words bouncing off the sterile walls.
Days blurred into weeks as I wrestled with Noah's words and the reality of my confinement. The facility became both my sanctuary and my prison, its walls offering protection from the outside world while trapping me in a web of uncertainty and doubt.
I waited, watching the days pass in a haze of medication and therapy sessions. Each moment was a battle against the voices that whispered I was losing my grip on reality, that Noah was nothing more than a manifestation of my fractured mind.
*******
Silence wrapped around me like a suffocating blanket, broken only by the steady patter of rain against the window. I sat on the cold floor of the small room in the San Miguel Mental Health Facility, my knees drawn up to my chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. The bare walls seemed to close in on me, their blankness a stark contrast to the chaos raging inside my mind.
Am I crazy? The question echoed relentlessly in my thoughts, a nagging doubt that clawed at the edges of my sanity. They think I am. Chief Ramirez, the officers, the doctors—they all think I've lost touch with reality.
But Noah... Noah was real. I could still feel the phantom touch of his fingers against my skin, hear the haunting timbre of his voice whispering promises and threats in equal measure. How could they dismiss everything I had experienced? How could they reduce it all to mere delusion?
Outside, the rain continued its relentless assault, each drop a reminder of the world beyond these walls. I pressed my forehead against the cool surface of the window, watching as rivulets of water streaked down the glass. The city beyond was a blur of muted colors, distorted by the curtain of rain.
Closing my eyes, I tried to steady my breathing, to find some semblance of calm amidst the storm raging within me. Memories flooded my mind—of Noah's enigmatic smile, of his piercing gaze that seemed to see through to the depths of my soul.
A shiver ran through me, both from the cold seeping through the window and the uncertainty gnawing at my heart. I couldn't trust my own perceptions anymore. The lines between reality and illusion had blurred beyond recognition, leaving me adrift in a sea of doubt.
Footsteps echoed faintly in the hallway outside, drawing me back to the present. I tensed, my heart racing with sudden apprehension. Were they coming for me again? Was this the beginning of another round of questions, of tests designed to prove my madness?
The door creaked open slowly, admitting a sliver of light into the dimness of the room. A figure appeared in the doorway—a nurse, her expression neutral as she regarded me with clinical detachment.
"Time for your medication," she said softly, her voice devoid of warmth or sympathy.
I hesitated, uncertain whether to comply or resist. The pills they gave me dulled my senses, numbed the edges of my thoughts until everything seemed distant and hazy. But perhaps that was what I needed—to escape, even momentarily, from the turmoil consuming me.
Without a word, I held out my hand, accepting the small paper cup she offered. The pills rattled against the plastic as I swallowed them down, their bitter taste lingering on my tongue.
The nurse watched me for a moment longer, her gaze assessing. "Try to get some rest," she finally said, before retreating and closing the door behind her with a soft click.
Alone once more, I sank back against the wall, my mind heavy with fatigue. The medication would soon take effect, dragging me down into a state of drowsy resignation. But even as I closed my eyes and surrendered to the darkness that threatened to engulf me, one thought persisted:
Noah was real. And somehow, I had to find a way to prove it.
****