Spoken Like a Psycho
1.
The church was scarily empty as he bowed down his head to the enormous crucafix on the wall. His eyes were shut tight to keep tears from flowing out of them. He couldn't get her out of his mind. The way she spoke, how soft it was. Her eyes darting quickly across the room as if she was watching a tennis match.
"I want to see what she sees" the words slipped out of his mouth into his folded hands. His eyes finally glanced around the church. Nothing new was there. No disfigured faces or angels. The colors were normal, might as well be black and white. Unlike before her figure appeared in the doorway. Perfect like an hourglass.
She knelt next to him and touched his arm. Her lips were tightly shut. Her hand brushed against his face.
In her eyes a pain a thousand times worse than anybody else you'd ever know.
Technically a doctor never knows if you really have schizophrenia but with Caitlyn there was no doubt. She was always touching things that weren't there or speaking of people she never knew. She would never eat her food without some one else testing it first to see if it was poisoned. She never went into certain rooms in her house for she claimed they were "bugged". She only really trusted one person and that was him; Garret Teirling.
They met the summer before last working at the same shop near the railroad tracks. She'd walk them carefully with him. There were never any on coming trains. There hadn't been since 1957. No one ever came to Crownson. No one ever left either.
He'd always tell her stories about vampires and old Chinese dragons. Of course she listened, tilting her head to one side and letting a smile spread across her lips.
Now she feared moving away, being sent to a mental hospital in North Carolina. Her mother was already making the arrangements. They couldn't take care of her anymore.
In the chapel, they held hands tightly, praying to stay together. Their faces tilted toward eachother's and they just about kissed but she let out a gasp and her eyes widened.
"What happened to you?!"
"I want to see what she sees" the words slipped out of his mouth into his folded hands. His eyes finally glanced around the church. Nothing new was there. No disfigured faces or angels. The colors were normal, might as well be black and white. Unlike before her figure appeared in the doorway. Perfect like an hourglass.
She knelt next to him and touched his arm. Her lips were tightly shut. Her hand brushed against his face.
In her eyes a pain a thousand times worse than anybody else you'd ever know.
Technically a doctor never knows if you really have schizophrenia but with Caitlyn there was no doubt. She was always touching things that weren't there or speaking of people she never knew. She would never eat her food without some one else testing it first to see if it was poisoned. She never went into certain rooms in her house for she claimed they were "bugged". She only really trusted one person and that was him; Garret Teirling.
They met the summer before last working at the same shop near the railroad tracks. She'd walk them carefully with him. There were never any on coming trains. There hadn't been since 1957. No one ever came to Crownson. No one ever left either.
He'd always tell her stories about vampires and old Chinese dragons. Of course she listened, tilting her head to one side and letting a smile spread across her lips.
Now she feared moving away, being sent to a mental hospital in North Carolina. Her mother was already making the arrangements. They couldn't take care of her anymore.
In the chapel, they held hands tightly, praying to stay together. Their faces tilted toward eachother's and they just about kissed but she let out a gasp and her eyes widened.
"What happened to you?!"