as I stare at the black snakes writhing on the back of his head, flashing me their yellow eyes and thick fangs. Go away, go away, go away, I chant, but I know that reasoning with my hallucinations never helps.
“Where’s your van, Dr. Ophidian? I can help Sable get her things loaded and settled in for your trip,” Tyson says as the three of us step outside.
Something about the doctor’s smile seems forced as it stretches wide across his face. “I parked around the side, but you’re too kind, I can take it from here,” he states politely.
As I watch, one of his snakes starts to hiss and snaps out at Tyson. I gasp in shock and stumble back, pulling Tyson with me, and both he and the doctor look over at my stunned face with concerned confusion.
Well, of course they’re confused. I’m the only one who sees it, but that doesn’t change the fact that my heart is racing, adrenaline is pumping through my body, and a black border is creeping into my vision.
Oh no.
I start to freak out even more. Which is the opposite of what I need to be doing. I know if I don’t calm down, the blackness will start to take over, and when that happens, it’s like my brain just shuts off.
I’ve been told it’s a protective mechanism that I’ve developed for one reason or another. It forces my whole body to play possum without my consent, and the world around me just blinks in and out like some hellish strobe light designed to make me even crazier.
I can’t let that happen. I need to stay with it and be aware, not fracture into myself. I dig my fingers into my palms as I curl my hands into fists, blowing out a breath. I’ve learned over the years to focus on my breathing and to look away from the winged delusion that’s setting me off. Sometimes, I can get the hallucination to go away, but when I glance back, all the snakes are still there, and the doctor’s creepy white and black eyes have a scary glint in them.
Why does my brain want to make him look viciously eager?
“What happened, Sable? What’s wrong?” Tyson asks me, stepping into my line of vision until all I can see is his soft dark skin and the warm concern in his eyes.
I blink several times, trying to reset my vision and my head. It works sometimes, but it’s inconsistent at best.
“It’s not right,” I tell Tyson quietly, at a loss for words that help me form coherent sentences that will explain what’s going on with me without admitting that I’m having an episode.
He brings his hands up to my shoulders, and the touch helps to ground me more in reality. Tyson dips down until his eyes are even with mine and stares at me for a beat. “Do you want something that will help take the edge off?”
I can’t help but scoff a little. In any other circumstances, he’d sound like he was offering me a drink. I hate the medicine side of things since nothing I’ve ever taken has helped with the hallucinations. If anything, it makes me more susceptible.
I don’t answer, but my panicked gaze bouncing in alarm between his dark brown eyes must be all the answer he needs. He nods and steps back, giving my shoulders another squeeze before dropping his hold. He digs into his pocket and pulls out an orange pill bottle with two pills inside, and hands them over. “Here you go, Sabe.”
I give him a strained smile. I’ve come to resent all the medication I’ve been plied with over the years, but I know it’s just par for the course. At the very least, maybe this will make me sleep in the car, and then I won’t completely lose it.
“Thanks,” I murmur as I open the top and tip it over before popping both pills and swallowing them down whole.
My throat works as the pills go down, and Tyson gives me a reassuring nod before he looks over at Dr. Ophidian and pauses for a moment. “I just so happen to be off in twenty,” he says. “I’ll volunteer to ride up with the two of you and just make sure everything goes smoothly. I can help make sure Sable has an easy transition,” Tyson offers, and I could almost scream with relief.
I can do this with him there. I can focus on him and his brightness and not