Somewhere Gone

"Niko, you've got to throw that painting away...I just don't feel right around it."

"Funny, my mom said the same thing," Niko said with a grin. He often grinned that way when he was charming his way out of something he didn't want to do. On Matilda, it worked, every time.

"Come on, Tilly, I painted it when I was in a low time," Niko continued. "Art is supposed to move you, that doesn't always mean in a nice, comfortable way. Sometimes it's painful, sometimes it's jarring."

Niko gestured to the circular canvas with a boy in dark ragged clothing, holding something Tilly couldn't make out from where she was standing. It looked like a small golden box. Tilly couldn't even begin to conceive of the horrors that lay within that supposed box. She shuddered, slightly, thinking about it.

Tilly inspected the painting further, really looking at it. The background was plain, an eerie, muted, aquamarine color, with the boy standing on a dark, oval platform. The painting appeared as if it were dripping, still wet, but not with paint. Niko had managed to make the painting itself look like it were wet with crying. Though, she didn't know if that were his intentions. The boy's eyes were nonexistent. In their place were matted, black streaks, bleeding down his cheeks. The whole painting gave a feeling of despair. Tilly didn't know whether she wanted to cry or throw up looking at it.

"Cover it back up with the blanket," Tilly told the man. Niko promptly covered the painting back up with a sigh, though even he seemed to have a weight lifted from his shoulders once the boy disappeared behind the cloth. Tilly couldn't imagine what Niko must have been feeling at the time for his painting to have that powerful of an effect. Later that night, when Niko and Tilly were laying in bed, Niko said something odd.

"Sometimes, I feel like this whole world around me is in my imagination, and the real me is locked in a psych ward somewhere. Straight jacket and all, surrounded by white padding, just rocking back and forth."

Tears started to fall from Niko's face with his last sentence. Tilly's stomach dropped at the quiver in Niko's voice and the sight of tears. She couldn't help but wonder if the painting had been an omen of the tune for the night or if it had been the catalyst. She wanted to comfort Niko, but the idea of her being a construct of Niko's imagination left a pit in her stomach that she couldn't shake. In fact, it kept growing larger, until the nauseous feeling from earlier in the day returned.

"Tilly?" said Niko shakily. He sounded far away, distant to Tilly. Strange.

Ting.

Clarity rung like a bell in Tilly's mind and she remembered...she wasn't real. Reality swirled around the two, both reached out for one another, while rapidly converging and slowly not being able to differentiate one from the other.

Niko felt the rocking before he opened his eyes. He could tell the lights were on. But Tilly. He was so tired. Tilly felt like a dream slipping away. But he knew she once felt real.

Tilly opened her eyes. She saw the white walls of her bedroom. A single lamp illuminated the room from atop a bedside table. It felt warm and cozy, she felt calm and comfortable. Tilly closed her eyes again. She was in bed. There were no alarms, there was nothing to do. She could bask in the coziness of home. But wait...where was Niko? Tilly lazily flung her wrist in the direction of her partner's side of the bed. Her hand landed with a soft plump onto a comforter, but no Niko. She called out to him, "Niko?"

Ting

Niko opened his eyes.

He was greeted with harsh overhead lights and stark white padded walls. Somewhere in the distance, a man was screaming in what sounded like anguished agony, a call for freedom.

"Oh."

The jacket holding Niko actually felt kind of nice if it weren't as tight and made with a softer material. However, his arms were starting to ache from being held in the same position for who knows how long. Niko stared at the wall in front of him and tried to stand up. He stumbled around until he was up on two feet.

"Do I want to be here?" Niko mused aloud. He thought to moments before how he seemed to be in another reality.

Did it matter that it wasn't technically real? Niko wondered to himself. He walked over to the only door in the room and looked out the little window. Outside the smeared glass he could make out beige walls and doors leading to other rooms. He remembered that behind those doors were bedrooms that belonged to other people like him. Then he recalled that the room he was currently in was named "The Meditation Room." He laughed to himself.

Isn't that what crazy people do?

I am, obviously.

Obviously what?

Crazy.

What makes you say that?

I'm standing here in a forced hug jacket, having a conversation with a version of myself in my head while trying to hold on to the memories of my life from another reality.

Nothing. No response, no rebuttal. Just the facts.

You have a choice.

Do I?

Niko knew the answer. He looked out the window again. To the right, carpet flooring led into an adjacent hallway. He could see what looked like an office window where the staff sat in the air conditioning doing paperwork or God knows what. Niko and Mitchell talked the other day about how nice the small breeze was when you walked up to the window. It's the closest thing to fresh air in a place like this. The more Niko remembered about this reality, the more he forgot the details of his life with Tilly. But he could still picture her perfectly in his mind. He thumped his head gently against the door to try to get someone's attention. Nothing. No one. Not a soul in sight. Maybe they're eating, or at group. Niko's stomach growled.

Finally, a woman in grey scrubs turned the corner heading in Niko's direction. Niko thumped again. This time, the woman in the hallway looked up and met his eyes. She smiled a warm, kind smile at him and for the first time since opening his eyes, Niko felt at home in this reality.

Thank you.

Anne opened the door of the Meditation Room and stepped in.

"Good morning, Niko."

"Is it really morning?"

"It is for you. You've been in their having a fit for 16hours."

16 hours?

Anne continued,

"It's dinner time, now. Would you like a plate? The cart's still up here."

"Sure, can I eat in the dayroom with everyone else?"

"Let me call Dr. Stanley and see what she says, okay? For now, hang tight, I'll be right back."

With that, Anne left the room and closed the door behind her. Niko noticed that she didn't lock the door.

Was that an oversight, or is it a test to see how I'm behaving?

Knowing nurse Anne, it very well could have been an oversight. She was a lovely, kind woman, however a little distant it seemed. Like she was halfway somewhere else in her own thoughts from time to time. Niko could relate. He recalled how Anne told him that she had gotten into her career through her own mental health struggles. Niko thought she was a lovely woman.

Regardless of the reason, Niko walked over to the far wall and slid down it to sit on the floor. He was both unsure how long Anne would be and needed to be less tempted to bolt out of the practically open door. Sit and behave. Be good. Be reasonable. Be tolerable. Don't be aggressive. Don't be defensive. Niko reminded himself of all of these things. That was the recipe for getting out of places like this. Interact, but don't be too much. Engage with the groups and activities. Be a little bit of a bother, showing them how bored you are, but don't complain. Try to be likable. Try to be charming. Crazy people aren't charming.

Do I want to leave?

Niko asked himself again. He could just close his eyes or zone into the wall and go lie in bed with Tilly.

Staying here would be hard. Every damn day is a struggle not to just slip into my own imagination. It's more fun there, there's less consequences but they feel real and I don't know that. But the reward is whatever I want it to be, and the best part is that I don't know that. And it feels good. Living life feels good there. But here...everything's just harder. I don't feel well, physically. My mind is a muddled mess. I could stay here. I could live here. I could not have any bills here. All I would have to do is choose Tilly.

But Tilly is...me.

Anne opened the door.

"How are you feeling, Niko?"

Niko snapped out of his thoughts and turned his head towards the woman in front of him.

"I feel good," he responded automatically.

Anne looked as though she didn't quite believe him.

"Where did you go just now? When I left the room?"

Niko knew what she meant, but didn't know how to answer her,

"Nowhere. I stayed in this room."

"Hmm. Okay, Niko. Let's get you out there with the rest of the group and see how we do."

Anne smiled a genuine, soft smile as she gestured for Niko to turn around so she could undo his straps.

"There, how does that feel?"

Niko stretched his arms above his head and behind his back, then forward in front of him.

"It feels great. Thank you."

Be sure to thank them.

If I don't want to stay here, then why am I playing the game to get out?

"You're welcome. Come on, we're having hamburgers, mashed potatoes and steamed carrots.

Show her how well you are. Show her how present you are in this reality.

"Do you think there's any extra black tea on the cart?"

"If there's not, I'll make you some, dear."

Niko perked up a bit and found himself wanting to stay in this reality again. He really did want that tea. He knew when he drank it, it would be warm and flavorful with just a bit of cream. And that was...wonderful.

Maybe it's the little things, all of the time. Maybe if I remember to appreciate Anne's kind smile, hot tea, sunshine, the feeling of being in the water, all of my small comforts...then maybe I can stay here.

The years passed and Niko struggled from time to time. However, the struggles always relieved with time and Niko's tea brought him home every time.