Tormented

Isabella Donovan

Creative Writing 1

Brownfield

24 September, 2026

This short story contains themes of mental health and physical violence

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    Everyone refuses to admit she’s there; they call me demented, but I know she’s there. I know Alice is there. She speaks to me when I’m all alone at night; she feeds me lies; she tells me she's the only one who really cares about me. But I know it’s all lies. Everyone tells me that my mind is just playing tricks, but I know she’s real. She stalks me like I’m prey, lurking in the shadows of my mind. My parents tried everything: therapy and mental institutions. Everyone has told me the same thing, but I know she’s real; she whispers my name in syrupy tones that sound like honey. She protects me. She promises that soon it’ll just be us; she’s worming her way into my mind, and my doubt in her is fading. A foggy voice awakes me from my thoughts. My mom looks at me with concern etched across her face. “Were you even listening?” I mumble a sorry to her. Her face is creased with worry. “We’re talking about sending you to a new institution; they have medicine that could help.” I don't want to leave my family, and my grief pours onto my face like an endless ocean. She immediately notices and sighs. “It's for the best; I hope you understand.” I get up and push my chair hard in anger. I feel sick to my stomach. Alice pushes me to the floor and whispers, “I'm sorry.” I fall onto my hands and knees and retch. As I purge my stomach, my vision fades to black. I wake up to Mom screaming in my face. As my eyes flutter open, relief washes over her face. “Are you okay?” Quickly shaking the vision of Alice out of my mind, I reply, “I guess.” “Then why would you strike your father!?” “But Mom, I didn’t.” She sighs, “Then be that way; it’s settled. Tomorrow you leave for Hollow Creek Sanitary, the new hospital.” I angrily storm off to my room, and dread washes over me. I lie in bed, searching for relief I know will never come. As I drift off, Alice appears to keep watch over me. I wake up with a pounding headache, surely foreshadowing what is to come. I finally manage to push myself out of bed, and I grimace in pain. Maybe last night was all a dream. As I make my way down the stairs, I hear my parents arguing in whispers. Their tones are angry, and I feel uneasy about what is to come. My legs tremble as I reach the last step, and I can clearly hear my parents' argument. It is about me. Whether or not I should really leave. My dad is on my side; as usual, my mom wants me to go away. I feel like she doesn't want me here, and that their lives would be better off without me. I struggle with these thoughts constantly, no matter how much my father reassures me. It feels like I’m just a burden on them, like I’m weighing them down in an ocean current. It's always been this way, my mom pushing me to the back of her mind, sending me off whenever possible. My father constantly defends me, though his resolve has been faltering. Maybe he believes I’m crazy too. As I approach them, they abruptly stop, surely sensing my presence. My mom reminds me I’m due to leave in an hour, and I grunt in response. The hour passes by quickly; my mom seems to be quietly jumping for joy. My mom rushes me into the car, clearly excited to see me go, and the seconds tick by slowly and painfully. After an hour and a half, we finally arrive; the hospital is drab. It is a lone castle, the lawn clearly neglected. The hospital has grey stone walls and looks like it came out of Dracula; just looking at it leaves me feeling glum. Alice holds my hand as we make our way up the stone pathway. As we reach the door, reality sets in, and misery fills my body. A woman in a white surgical coat opens the door. She looks at me with disdain. “So you are Adeline Bevilacqua?” I nod slowly, sensing I should not speak. “Enter, and go to the right; you will have a counseling session with Doctor Lawrence. Parents, you will check her in.” I enter hesitantly. To the right, there is a door; its paint peeling, and I feel whatever lurks beyond is grim. Alice squeezes my hand, reminding me she's here for me. She speaks lies, but gradually my brain can no longer tell if what she says is truth or lies. As I walk into the room, the doctor nods at me and welcomes me. “Hello, Adeline. I trust the drive was fine. How are you?” His voice is deep and dark, and goosebumps prickle my skin; it elicits fear. “I’m okay, I guess.” Alice looks at me with doubt in her eyes; somehow she can sense I’m lying. “Wonderful, I understand this is not your first time in a mental hospital. Your mom said you see a girl no one else sees. Possible schizophrenia. Of course, it’ll take multiple sessions to figure out a real answer.” I nod in agreement. “Yes, however, she is real; I know it. Alice speaks to me; she says she’s the only person who understands me.” “I see. Do you believe her, Adeline?” I think for a moment, the delusions worming deeper into my brain. “I suppose so, doctor. She keeps me safe; I don’t think there is any reason to doubt her.” He sits for a moment, probably pondering how to answer. “That’s all, Adeline. We will begin regular counseling tomorrow, and tonight you will take your first dose of the new medicine. Nurse Carlisle will show you to your room; he should be waiting just outside the door. Bye.” When I walk out of his office, my dad and a man are waiting for me; I presume Mr. Carlisle. After a short but teary goodbye with my dad, the nurse says we must go. He leads me through winding hallways to what I can only assume is the inpatient ward. He opens up a door and holds it open; his piercing gaze feels like he's seeing straight through me. We walk into an ill-decorated room, just a bed and bathroom; no privacy. He hands me a blue pill and a cup of water; he calls the pill pyrozetrizine. I swallow it as his piercing eyes watch closely. If I weren’t so scared, I’d probably be admiring his amber eyes. His skin is pale; he fits the hospital's ongoing Dracula theme perfectly. He catches me staring and lets a small grin consume his perfect face. Even his teeth look like a vampire’s. I shake these crazy thoughts from my head and notice Alice staring at me, smirking. I wonder if he can see her like I can, if those amber eyes would pierce straight through her without even noticing. I realize that Alice is more vividly colored than usual, her skin now tan instead of the usual paleness. Her beauty is striking, and I notice the similarities we share. I never noticed how alike we looked; she could be my carbon copy. Nurse Carlisle leaves the room, leaving me to consider the bleakness of this room. I never liked being alone, and at this moment I’m glad to have Alice. I lie down on the lumpy mattress, figuring I should try to get some sleep, as I begin to drift off; Alice begins speaking. She angrily complains about the hospital and says the nurse looks dangerous. Finally, she mentions breaking out and says we could set this place on fire and run afterward. She’s always so angry, rashly acting over tiny things. I truly don’t understand; she’s even angrier than usual. For the first time in a long time, I am truly, genuinely scared of her. After an hour of hearing her complain, I finally manage to fall into a deep sleep. Even in my dreams, I can hear her faintly muttering to herself. I see her in my dreams; she acts wildly, and I can't understand what is wrong with her. Woken by an alarm, the nurse enters my room. He says something, but I can’t understand what; his voice is faint. Alice is too distracting. I think back to yesterday's events; something must have happened for her to act like this. I recall the medicine I took, and if it's affecting her like this, then maybe that means she isn’t real. I shake my head. I know there must be a logical explanation; I know she’s real. Nurse Carlisle shakes me out of it and asks if I’m okay. I slowly nod; I don’t need anyone thinking I’m crazier than they already believe. He tells me I have 10 minutes to get ready, do whatever I need to do, and then it is off to breakfast. I lie still for another minute, contemplating what to do. I suppose I need a shower, but Alice is screaming, and I need to do something, anything. But I feel so sick. I try to brush it off, but within a matter of seconds, the room goes dark. When I wake up, the doctor is next to me, gently shaking my shoulder. When he sees my eyes open, he says. “Adeline, are you okay?” I shrug the sleepiness out of my eyes and ask what happened. “You attacked Nurse Carlisle when he came back in and then passed out.” I look at him in confusion. I know I passed out before he came back in, and I say so. “You really don’t remember?” he asks. I shrug. “No, sir, I just remember feeling sick and then the room went dark.” He searches my face to find any hint I’m lying, but of course he doesn’t find anything. Nurse Carlisle comes back to give me my pyrozetrizine, and I apologize. I tell him I really can’t remember, and he looks at me with doubt in his eyes before accepting my apology. After taking the medicine, I try to get dressed, but I still feel a bit woozy. The nurse has to help, and I feel embarrassment spreading into my cheeks. We walk into the cafeteria, and everyone’s already eating; I’m late due to my incident. They serve me waffles with blueberries and strawberries shaped like a smiley face. My stomach growls; I didn’t even realize I was so hungry. The smiley face brightens me, and I believe that even though I’m already off to a bad start, maybe just maybe this won’t be so bad. I finish breakfast, and thenNursee Carlisle rushes me off to therapy. Alice trails behind slowly, her figure gaining even more vividness. When I enter, Doctor Lawrence greets me and asks how I am doing after this morning’s rough start. I shrug; I honestly don’t know. “I know you had a rough start, but I genuinely believe you’ll make great progress here. Have you noticed any differences in Alice?” I think for a moment and then answer, “She’s becoming more vivid. She used to be grey and dull, but she’s gaining color; she looks exactly like me, and it’s honestly kind of scary.” Alice looks at me with sadness in her eyes, and I feel a bit bad. He keeps probing me about my history with her and what she is like. I reply with short answers, and he takes the hint that I don’t want to talk. We finish up, and I’m sent to have some recreational time in the yard; it feels like prison. Days blend into weeks, and this schedule continues. He probes me and episodes where I attack someone but cannot remember, and Alice grows increasingly sad with my answers. She knows I’m scared of her, and I honestly feel bad. She brings joy and color to my life, but her anger is getting less controlled. She tells me she hates that I’m scared of her and complains about anything and everything. The worst part is her violent fantasies; she tells me about them, and I feel genuine fear. She gets angrier as I take the medicine. I’m truly beginning to believe that somehow my medicine is affecting her. I want to save her; I really do, but she leaves a grim print on my life. I wish she would understand how I felt; in a way, it feels like she does. Then comes a session with the doctor that truly makes me understand Alice. I enter the room, and he says he believes he knows what I’m suffering from. “Adeline, there’s no easy way to say this, but I think you’re suffering from split personality disorder; let me explain. Alice is your other personality; you’re split in two. That’s why you can’t remember your violent outbursts; you shift into her, and you cannot remember it after the fact. We need to work on bringing your two halves together. I believe you’ll truly find peace after we can.” I am shocked, and now I don’t feel so crazy anymore. I know why Alice acts the way she does; it’s my way of reacting to the years of emotional abuse from my mom. After weeks of working on it, I’m well on the way to recovery, and I feel at peace. I am finally sent home, and I am so grateful for Doctor Lawrence and Nurse Carlisle. I have finally achieved inner peace because of them.