Not Convinced

She’s up in a bolt again, and it’s routine by now. She sits up in a speed no one knew she had with tears blurring her vision and shivers racking her entire body.

And he’s up with her. He puts up with the bags under his eyes and the dark rings that form around them. He puts up with her terrified slurs that are supposed to form explanations (the ones that are never properly uttered). And he doesn’t care anymore, because he knows that by simply wrapping his arms around her and whispering what are supposed to be soothing promises, she’s able to fall back asleep and let him stay up and wait for her next outburst.

And during the daytime, it’s not better. Every miscellaneous place they go to is a trip down memory lane for her, and sooner than later, she’s sputtering out protests and justifying her reluctance with “She’ll get me if I go in there”.

He gets her out of there, feeling as if every stranger’s stare forms a burning hole on the back of his head.

They went through this enough times for him to realise it’s better to keep her home. She sleeps most of the time, and if not, she’s up and about, seemingly careless and loving with him. But he senses the caution she holds with every one of her actions, he notices the way her eyes sometimes jump to an obscure location in the room, and the glint of fear in them.

And despite her wrapping her arms around his neck while humming along to a song he doesn’t know, she always looks out for ‘Her’.

His father tells him she belongs in a psychiatric ward, ‘a fucking asylum where they keep the goddamned lunatics like her’, but they both know he won’t think about it. Not when he knows that she’d only get worse there. He decides putting up with her delusions, as tiring as it can be, is better than sending her with them. And his father hates her because he can see the life drifting from his being, he can notice the physical and mental exhaustion he slowly puts on with her antics.

Dr. Brooke is no help, but it’s the only thing he obliged to to get his father to stop complaining. If he can’t assure her that everything is actually okay in reality and that ‘She’ won’t harm her, what is a middle-aged, pretentious stranger going to accomplish?

She always cries when she comes back from Dr. Brooke’s small office. And he’s holding her in his arms again, whispering whatever she wants to hear into her ear, ignoring the wild shakes from her body that he’s gotten used to.

Sometimes, he really tries. He lays with her with the intention if simply talking to her. He uses a soft, yet stern voice at these occasions, telling her that she’s okay. ‘She’ is not real. ‘She’ will never hurt her as long as God keeps them together.

She agrees. She says she knows that he’ll always protect her, that ‘She’ can’t get to her unless she no longer has him. But she also knows that ‘She’ will always be there.

And he decides he doesn’t have a problem with that.

So they eat what wouldn’t be considered a proper meal while watching reruns of old TV shows before they decide to head to bed.

He stays up, waiting for the screams to come. Waiting for the routine to repeat itself again.