Liam Carter's POV
Desolation. They say it's acceptable to allow oneself to lose hope and be crushed for a while. But you never truly understand how deep this rabbit hole goes.
Hope is a precarious thing. When you hope, you're essentially expecting something, and expectation often leads to suffering. You resist the way things are presently, persisting in fighting for the causes you care about, partly because of hope.
"You need to make a decision as soon as possible," Doctor Solomon insisted, readjusting his glasses. "Untreated schizophrenia can give rise to serious problems that affect every aspect of his life."
"But, Doctor, I thought he was improving. He's starting to remember us," I trailed off.
It had been a good day, filled with joy and laughter, as I witnessed Lucas' progress. At least that's how it seemed to me...
But was it really the case?
"You can't be so sure," the doctor replied. "Without treatment, his schizophrenia could lead to various issues like suicide, suicide attempts, and suicidal thoughts, or even anxiety and obsessive-compulsive disorders."
"Enough!" Dad grumbled, standing up. "None of that will happen to my son!"
"That's precisely why you need to give us consent to treat him. He needs help," I couldn't find the words to respond. "Nowadays, schizophrenia is manageable. There are many high-functioning individuals with schizophrenia out there. CEOs, bosses, and even athletes. But they require medication and therapy."
Dad returned to his seat, running his hands over his face. All he had to do was give the go-ahead for Lucas' treatment. We all wanted my brother to get better, but was it truly that simple?
"AAAAAHHHHHH!!"
I jolted upright as Lucas' piercing scream echoed through the house. The sound of loud thuds came from his room.
"L-Lucas..." Dad stammered.
We all rushed to my brother's room. My blood ran cold, and I could barely feel my own heartbeat.
It only takes a knife stab or a gunshot to end someone's life. But in that moment, witnessing my brother covered in his own blood, I felt like I had reached a dead end. One question remained:
Was there still something worth hoping for?
"SON!"
Just as Lucas was about to strike his head against the wall, Dad swiftly came to his aid.
I stood frozen, my eyes locked with Lucas', as the room filled with an overwhelming sense of fear and my knees trembled.
"M-Mom... M-Mom is real... s-she is r-real..." Lucas groaned before his eyes slowly closed, and he lost consciousness.
"N-No... S-Son, wake up! LUCAS!"
I couldn't contain the turmoil within me. Leaning against the wall, I slid down, my knees giving way. Tears welled up in my eyes and streamed down my face—I couldn't bear what was unfolding.
"Mommy... w-what happened to you? P-please, wake up!"
It was all too much to handle. Seeing the pain of those you care about is just one aspect of life. It torments and devours you until you find yourself struggling to keep your head above the fragile house of cards.
I detested the situation, but I had to be there. My father needed me, and Lucas needed us.
As we hurriedly took my brother to the hospital, every minute of that day was an immense burden. It felt like my heart was on the verge of stopping. What could go wrong? That question circled endlessly in my mind. Words, it seems, cannot adequately convey the pins and needles piercing every inch of my body.
I had already lost my mother, and the thought of losing my brother or another part of my family was unimaginable. It felt like losing a part of myself all over again.
Dad stood by the doorway while I sat outside the emergency department, my gaze fixed, as if I had ceased to function. Even my mind felt frozen.
Moving forward feels like either winning the battle against life or losing the war.
"I heard what happened," I unconsciously turned to my right. "My father told me."
I was accustomed to putting on a strong front. With everything that had transpired and continued to unfold, it felt like I was already dead.
"I'm sorry we didn't inform you," I muttered, averting my gaze. Even the sound of my voice felt foreign. Nothing felt real anymore. "I know he's your friend."
"I understand," Daisy responded, her gaze shifting away. I was at a loss for words, unable to gather my thoughts. "Why don't you let Dad treat him already?"
My lips parted, and my eyes lost focus. The events that had unfolded were all-consuming. Lucas repeatedly banging his head against the wall, the blood...
He was killing himself.
Although my father had the final say, I was filled with fear. So, we hand over my brother to Doctor Solomon, and he'll magically get better? Is it truly that simple?
Resting my forearms on my knees, I clasped my hands together and exhaled deeply.
"I don't know," I said, calming myself. "Do you think it's better this way?" I asked, furrowing her eyebrows. I had no control over the words escaping my mouth.
"Better this way, with him hurting himself?"
"What? No!" I replied, shaking my head. "I mean, we can take care of him. But subjecting him to therapy might be destructive. It could hinder his healing process rather than aiding it," I stumbled over my words. Lucas was still in danger from every angle. But he had assured me that he would be fine, no matter what happens. I couldn't bear losing him. We couldn't.
"Are you willing to take that risk?" she blurted out. A lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed hard. "On the other hand, Lucas could get better. All we can do now is trust. Take the risk or lose the chance."
My eyes froze, and I felt like I could break at any moment. The driving force behind my life is simply taking chances. If a door opens, I step through. They say aim for the stars. But then a stormy cloud appears, wiping away everything, and you're left with nothing but a mess to clean up.
Just by looking at him, I couldn't tell if my brother would be fine. That would be foolish. He was struggling, and as much as I hated to admit it, I didn't see a glimmer of hope for his recovery.
"Daisy," Dad said, turning his gaze to the only woman in the room. "Tell your Dad, I've made my decision."
I lifted my head to Dad, tears glistening in his eyes. My heart started pounding...
"Please, take my son."
...