//------------------------------// // Over the Edge // Story: Pandemic: Hope // by Cadiefly //------------------------------// The next few hours of my solitude were spent in deep contemplation. The knowledge of my doctor’s decision, no matter how well intended, could have grave consequences for the rest of us. The infected already seemed upset, for very good reason, and David’s voice gave them direction. With my safety in jeopardy, I needed to direct my frustrations right at the source. My route to his office didn’t take as long this time around. When I got there, I tried knocking on the door, but I hesitated. Even if this was just a colossal mistake, what could anyone do about it now? The damage was done, and if I was being honest with myself, I might’ve done the same. “We’re wasting our time,” my other self said. “We should just go back to the room. It’s the only safe place for us now.” “This isn’t helping.” The hall around me suddenly seemed so small and warm. “I need answers. I need to know if we’ll be protected.” “Of course this is helping. You’re the one that’s clung onto me all these years, remember? This is what you wanted. Someone there for you to talk to. Someone who can protect whatever meager existence you call life.” “No!” The room spun was spinning by now. “Go away!” All traces of him seemed to vanish. It was strange how I had been missing him not that long ago. Then I heard him say, almost in a whisper, “You’ll come back to me soon enough. You always do.” Not this time, I wanted to say, but the words never left my tongue. I didn’t know if I could hold myself to that promise. It was so easy to give up, to just lock myself away and let life move on without me. Maybe then I wouldn’t be such a burden to others. That was the whole reason I allowed my brother to talk me into being admitted into the psychiatric ward in the first place. It was in this way that I, a self-proclaimed writer who’d never even written a day in his life, could stop bothering him with my troubles. That my insistence to handle my affairs myself never meant truly anything. I’d given up and utterly dissociated myself from the world around me. I held back a sob, but only just barely. My desire for control was a fleeting wish and nothing more. If I relied on others to help me through it, not only would it put a strain on them, I would relinquish what little control I had. There was no winning this accursed affliction. “Bart?” Webster’s voice pulled me away from my inner demons. My outburst must have roused him to investigate because he had a worried look upon his face. “Did you need to come in and talk for a bit?” “Not really. I mean, I don’t know. I guess.” Where was I even going with this? This was pointless. After a moment of consideration, Webster nodded and stepped aside to let me in. “Have a seat in my office. We can discuss whatever’s on your mind.” Once the door was closed behind us, all I wanted to do was get back up and walk out of there. I twiddled my thumbs and looked around the room, anywhere but at him as he sat back down. “Have you reconsidered the electroconvulsive therapy treatment? I know you weren’t ecstatic about it the last time you left my office, and a lot has been on our minds with everything that’s been happening as of late.” Dr. Webster seemed elsewhere even as he spoke. He typed away on a computer stationed at his desk. After a moment, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. “My answer is still no,” I said. “That’s not why I came here. I needed to know if David was telling the truth the other day.” “Ya-huh. I suppose there’s no changing your mind then.” The doctor’s voice was almost inaudible as he typed something into his computer. He then ran a hand through his hair and sighed irritably. “My apologies, but my mind is elsewhere at the moment. It’s nothing that you should be troubled about.” “What are you talking about?” I asked. “This problem isn’t yours alone. It affects me, too. Of course I’d troubled by it!” Webster gave a heavy sigh. When he spoke, his tone was grave. “Bart, I don’t know the best way to put it. In light of recent events, we here at Saint Junivus may not be able to handle your treatment for much longer. No need to worry, however, as you’ll remain in good hands at another facility with more suitable arrangements that meet your needs.” “What did you say?” He sounded as if he was abandoning myself and the rest of the patients. It sounded dangerous to transport everyone, too. There was no telling where else they might encounter the infection. “I said, ‘In spite of recent events, I will continue to provide treatment to the best of my abilities here at Saint Junivus, so no need to worry.’” “What about going to another institution?” I asked. “What are you talking about?” Webster was taken aback by my question as if he hadn’t brought it up himself mere moments ago. “Admittedly, our staff discussed the option of relocation earlier, but we’ll have to wait and see how things turn about before making any rash decisions.” That wasn’t at all what I heard him say before, but I was quickly losing my patience. This wasn’t getting us anywhere. It was as if we were having two different conversations. I scarcely remembered sitting down, but I leaped out of the chair across from him and glided over to the door. I didn’t know what I expected from him, but it wasn’t this. “Bart,” he called out, “was there anything else on your mind?” I stopped in my tracks, my fingers lightly resting on the handle. Against my better judgment, I chanced a look back at him. “Do you have any plans at all?” “We’ll do what we can to limit the contamination spread.” Webster took his glasses off and placed them and his fingers on the table. “Please, don’t worry about it too much. It does you no good.” “I. Can’t. Stop. Worrying.” I gripped tightly onto the knob, only now noticing that my hands were trembling. “What will become of them?” “I don’t know,” he murmured after a while. There was a sense of hopelessness in his voice, and when he sat back down in his chair, he put his face in his hands. “I truly don’t know.” “What do you mean you don’t know? Was David telling the truth before?” I gritted my teeth, holding onto the chance that he’d finally start making sense. “As far as I know, there haven’t been any reported cases of death. At least not yet. If we manage to get our next shipment of food, we might be able to hold out a little longer.” Webster had a befuddled look on his face. He either didn’t understand me or chose not to answer the one question that brought me here. I was already out of the office when I shouted over my shoulder, “That settles that. If you won’t answer me, I’ll be on my way.” “Answer what?” I stopped and looked back at him. “Really? You totally ignored my question about David’s statement, about how everyone in the west wing is going to starve. Does that not bother you at all?” “David...” Webster appeared as though he were gaping and at a loss for words. Then, slowly, he said, “Bart, you never mentioned anything about David.” So he hadn’t heard me at all? Did I only imagine myself asking? No, it didn’t matter. My other self had been right. This was a complete and utter waste of time. Dr. Webster tried to call me back into his office, but I tuned him out. He was no saner than the rest of the asylum. Yet he was leading our people. The ship was without its captain. The trek back to my room was rife with wrong turns and more questions then I cared to have answered. Whatever possessed Dr. Webster to abandon the west wing, there wasn’t anything more I could do that David wasn’t already handling. At this point, I just wanted to lay in bed and never wake up again. Some of the residents hung out within the halls along the way. Whether they walked aimlessly or laid against the walls restlessly, most of them had despondent looks on their faces. The ones who were lost in their own worlds seemed to be the happiest of all. “Are you ready to hand the reins over to me?” It was my other self again. I could practically hear the smug smile on his face. “You know you want to. This is too much for one person to deal with.” The ground became quite interesting to look at as my saunter evolved into a brisk stride. I’d never give in to the temptation. I could fight this. I hoped. A buzz echoed through my head when I reached my room at last. I was plagued with a splitting migraine within seconds. Once I was inside and leaning on my door, its wooden surface was cool and soothing against my back. “If you give in, I’ll make it all go away. The doctors, the institution, the disease. All of it.” His words were enticing, but oh so dangerous. “No. I refuse!” I paced to the center of the room, stumbling over my footing. “Look into your heart. You know this is the only answer.” The voice resonated through the chamber, its fact hard to denounce. “The walls close in around us as you stand idly by. No one else but I can stand at your side and protect you from the infection.” The declaration stopped me in my tracks. My room spun around me for a moment. It was meagerly furnished: a bed, a small drawer, and a desk tucked away in the corner. This was the way every room in the ward looked before any tenants moved in. They allowed personal effects to be brought in, provided it was within their policy, but it suited me just fine already. I did bring in one of my personal belongings, though. As I tried to get my bearings, my eyes landed on a vanity mirror that hung off the wall. It was supposed to serve as a reminder that I still had some semblance of control within this twisted world. That because I existed, there was some action I could take to achieve my heart’s desires. I could proudly raise my arms and clench my fists. Or, just as easily, draw blood from my skin and watch it trickle down my appendage. I couldn’t bear to look at it now, though. A wave of seemingly insurmountable regret tore at me. I had deviated from a tried and tested way of living on the false hope for something more. In the end, I couldn’t help anyone anymore than I could myself. I didn’t want the desire to take my other self’s offer. But I had it nonetheless. A commotion from outside pulled me away from my brooding. I peered into the halls to see a number of tenants looking down the corridor in anticipation. Some of them had a look of shock on their faces, while others were spurred into motion by their curiosity. “Something’s happening down at the entrance. Not sure what it is, though.” A man had told me when I asked about the disturbance. Had it claimed someone’s life after all? Despite my worst fears, my feet took me in the direction of the main halls. I had to know what might be in store for me. I was joined by two others as we crept forward. One of them was a man with a stocky build and a scraggly beard. When he briefly turned to me as he passed, I noticed the lazy eye from his stare and the prominent limp in his gate, which didn’t seem to slow him down in the slightest. Instead, he was as lively as the next person, scowling at everything like a man who hated the world. The other looked little more than a boy who barely broke five feet tall. He trailed behind the rest of the pack, and he was skittish of every movement he saw, though he tried not to make it apparent. As we reached the main entrance, a feeling of trepidation overcame me. Something didn’t sit well with me about the whole situation, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. One person rounded the corner and came running up to us. Then, another. And another until a small mass of residents were running, all in the same direction. The cause for alarm didn’t make itself apparent until the sight of pursuers were seen not far behind, all of which were in various stages of the disease. David was among them, leading the pack. “This way to the kitchen! That’s where they’re storing their food,” he yelled. It sounded almost like a war cry from the way they were invigorated. Some of them, those that were further along in their transformation, tripped up in their excitement and stumbled onto the floor. Others pushed past to replace those that had fallen. Those closer to the entrance were unfortunate, for they were swallowed up by the advancing mass. As soon as we saw it coming, my two quiet companions and I fled down the way we came. Still, it took us time to react, and in that time they closed the distance on us. The scrawny man, who had been behind us from the start, had immediately darted ahead of us. It didn’t take long, however, for us to catch up to him. He was gasping for breath by the time we reached him. Something in the other man’s grumbles prompted me to glance over my shoulder. They were only an arm’s length away from us. Far too close for comfort; it may have been enough to infect me for all I know. I tried to focus only on what’s ahead of me, on the fact that my room wasn’t that far now. The others seemed intent on doing the same thing; it was every man for himself. Then, the older fellow did something drastic. He frantically grabbed a hold of the person between us and flung him into the crowd and slowing them down. I watched him disappear, feeling sorry but not knowing what to do about it. That was taking things too far. “It bought us time, didn’t it?” the guy asked after noticing my judging look. If we weren’t in the midst of a chase, I might have called him out on it. There was no way I was going to stop him now, though, with our lives on the line. The damage had already been done. Relief washed over me when I had reached the door to my room at long last. I fiddled with the knob in a hurry to get inside, and in the span of a second, the crowd was upon us. I threw open the door and leaped through the air. As I crossed over from the hall into my quarters, I felt something jostle against my leg. My body slammed into the ground stomach first, and I struck the door with my foot as soon as I was on my back. The door shut. I scrambled off the floor and pressed my back against it. Even as I did, I knew it didn’t matter anymore. I was infected. Maybe I was infected before this even happened, and all the running we just did was pointless. A sudden thought crossed my mind. When was the last time I looked in the mirror? Tentatively, I stepped away from my post at my room’s entrance and walked over to see my reflection. I swallowed, feeling dryness in my throat. My heart pounded. I didn’t want to look. I couldn’t look. In spite of myself, my legs drew me closer to it as to a magnet. An eternity passed. But that wasn’t long enough. Eventually, I was staring at my reflection. Nothing jumped out to me, but I could hardly focus anyway. It’s not there, I thought to myself, at least not yet. The stress was eating away at me. I ran a hand through my hair to calm myself down. I don’t have it, I repeated. I’m still alright. Then, as I continued combing my hair, a lock of hair was brushed aside to reveal something colorful. It was nestled behind my more natural hair, and there wasn’t so much that it stuck out. It would have been almost impossible for anyone to spot if they weren’t looking for it. But it was there. I was infected. One way or another, I was destined to the same fate as the others. I should have been prepared for this eventuality, but it was still hard to take in regardless. What would become of my life? “The offer still stands,” said my other self. “I’ll take all of this away from you. All you need to do is say the word.” “Okay.” There was no hesitation in my voice this time. “I surrender.”