Frederik:

Doctor Savanoh anxiously walked forward with Frederik following closely behind. The doctor rhythmically drummed his pen against his white clipboard, looking behind every so often to check if Frederik was still with him, his looming presence making the doctor all the more nervous.

Frederik was calm. He always walked with his hands behind his back and a slight bend forward, as if to ensure that he always towered over whomever he spoke to.

“I do have to warn you, Mr. Herald, you’ve never seen anything like this one.”

“Hush now Savanoh, move along, I’m sure she wouldn’t want us to keep her waiting.”

They walked past halls of metal bars caged with white beds, white sheets, and people in white gowns with pale faces. Every patient turned and stared in awe. Fredrik took one indifferent glance from his left peripheral vision, and recovered his stare forward without a missing a beat. Doctor Savanoh was visibly disturbed; he twitched at every movement and sound and looked so rapidly back and forth that it almost seemed like he was looking at both sides of him at once.

This wing wasn’t under his supervision; Doctor Savanoh specialized in children’s psychiatry. His worst fears existed in these halls, halls of grownups whose psychotherapy hadn’t worked as children. It’s what would happen if Doctor Savanoh didn’t do his job properly.

They finally arrived at a glass room; amongst the white, metal and opaque, here existed a room of full transparency. Frederik could feel Doctor Savanoh pausing beside him, his breath held deep in his throat. He felt his chest grow more strained by the second and realized that he had been holding his own breath, and slowly breathed out.

“Adelaide Harper, 24. She was announced to this institution about three weeks ago. She came in kicking and screaming but since two weeks ago, hasn’t moved a single muscle … Well, except for … It’s hard to explain, just look for yourself”

Doctor Savanoh pointed into a glass room, where Adelaide sat in a white chair with her legs together and her arms resting languidly at her sides. Frederik gingerly leaned into the glass with his eyes fixated on her face, searching. And just as he was about to pull away thinking there was nothing to be seen, he saw the movements. Quick, rapid movements of her mouth that seemed to be the only trait distinguishing her from a comatose patient.

He didn’t know how long he’d had his breath held, but by the time he pulled away he was panting. He had enough to report back to his division. Frederik turned towards Doctor Savanoh, about to shake his hand to accept the proposal when he noticed that Doctor Savanoh was still staring intently into the room. The doctor’s hands were shaking as he pointed back into the glass and said,

“Wait, Frederik … something’s happening.”

Frederik, already wide-eyed, turned himself back towards the wall with his arms stiff next to him, his hands balled up prepared for whatever was next.

Doctor Savanoh’s mechanical watch slowly ticked away the seconds left in the hour … tick … tock. Frederik watched with the utmost intensity, the silence adapting him to the faint sound of the watch; he flinched to every noise and movement. Gently, he placed his hand on the glass to stabilize himself, waiting, watching.

3 … 2 … 1 …

Adelaide:

Inside the walls of glass she sat, unaware of the two people standing outside looking in and studying her as they would a zoo animal. Adelaide wasn’t paying attention because she wasn’t there, not mentally. Sometimes when the world is being especially cruel, she’ll leave the planet behind and swim away.

But it was almost time for her to wake up, she could feel her senses beginning to come back. She was having a conversation with Nathaniel, the local grocery boy, but his face was already blurring and disappearing. No, she didn’t want to go back just yet, he was going to tell her something very important today. The cake she had just bought to surprise her mother for her birthday had evaporated from her right hand. She closed her eyes, and very gently the wind stopped blowing against her blue sundress. The clouds in the sky grew larger and larger until the whiteness took over the whole space, every inch of it from the ocean to the cottage to the sand, till everything turned the same puffy white.

No, no, no, go back! I don’t want to go back.

The blurriness quickly diminished, and the puffiness turned hard, cold, and geometric: a square room. She reached out with her right hand as a futile attempt to hold it all back in place, and quickly pulled it in to herself and sobbed.

Gradually her arms shifted to her sides. She fell back like a trust fall into a chair, and watched her dress turn white and shapeless. Tears streamed down her face, but they were invisible.

Everything had been a figment of her imagination.

“Savanoh, what the hell is going on?!”

Chime … 3 o’clock.

Adelaide blinked several times, adjusting to the whiteness.

She was back.