"As a child, my parents would catch me looking at things that weren't there or pointing at blank spaces. At first, they just assumed I was being a normal creepy kid, like you see in those movies that see weird things. But when it never stopped as I got older…they started to have split opinions.

My mother, who was always a very religious woman, claimed I must have a close connection with death, that I must be a spirit medium or something like that.

My father, who was a logical man, a doctor, and a man who, above all, believed in science, believed I had a mental illness.

I went to multiple doctors, the majority diagnosed me with schizophrenia. They had to believe I had it, or else what would I have? 

I still remember the numerous doctor visits. All the "tests" and "procedures". It started as normal tests, just imaging tests , blood, urine, cerebrospinal fluid, and brain activity tests, standard tests to rule out other illnesses. But one day, my father took me to a place, it wasn't the hospital we always went to, it was a lab. That's when the real testing started. My father let them do whatever they wanted with me…even if it wasn't…testing. Perhaps his desire for a normal child, one to keep up appearances triumphed over the little love he had for me. 

Occasionally my mother would come along for questions.

'Hello ma'am, do you or your husband have any history of schizophrenia?' The doctor asked.

'Of course not! The devil hasn't touched a hair from my family until this child.' 

'Ma'am, the child isn't possessed by the devil, we are trying to take out any other conditions, now, please cooperate, did you have any pregnancy or birth complications?'

'No. I had an easy labor and birth.'

'Any drug use? Such as Marijuana?'

'Of course not!'

'What about any traumatic events that could've lead to him developing this disorder?'

'Of course not! We have always treated him with love an affection!' 

Thinking back on her wording almost makes me want to snort at how wrong it was. She was right about no traumatic event happening prior, just not the love and affection.

'What about famine or radiation?'

'Are you asking these questions just to waste my time? I knew I shouldn't have listened to him, these doctors don't know what they're doing.'

'Ma'am we are sorry but please continue to cooperate with us as we are trying our best. Now, does your child express a high level of negative emotions such as anger, envy, sadness, or depression?'

From what I can remember this went on and on for who knows how long.

'This is absolutely preposterous!' 

'We're sorry ma'am but we need to take all the variables into account.' 

The doctor started listing off other things like brain development difference, neurotransmitter problems, and autoimmune disease. To be honest I didn't listen much. I was a kid after all. 

She stormed out of the office shortly after the doctor finished, her grip on my wrist was tight, her nails bit into my skin. 

In the end, they couldn't determine a specific cause so they choked it up to some unknown cause. That didn't end the tests. 

The day my diagnosis was officially given still haunts my memory. The look of my fathers cold eyes. I still believe that, had I not been in a doctors office…my father might've strangled me right then and there. 

…that was the day of my 8th birthday. 

He hardly looked at me after that. Well…at least until…

I'll get to that later.

My mother wasn't much better. She wasn't as cold as my father but looking at her eyes I could see the underlying disgust. As if she was looking at a piece of scum she'd scraped off the underside of her shoes.

Either way, neither of their ways worked, not my mothers cleansing and exorcisms or the antipsychotics my father had me take  or the CBT and ECT.  But…as my condition got worse and worse, so did their marriage…perhaps it was bound to happen, but…maybe I just wanted to hold onto that happy smiling family in my childhood…or…was that my imagination? Regardless of what it was, I wanted them to be happy, so I began to ignore them. They still sent their insistent chatter, the shadows still danced around me like tendrils of fear. But I kept it all down. I'm still unsure how I managed to keep those voices at bay for so long. My parents were happy, they finally had a 'normal child. I was happy to be treated as their child, I was happy without constant doctor visits, constant check ups, tests, procedures. I was happy I felt human.

I stayed that way for a long…long time. 

Then the incident happened. The incident that screwed up everything. 

I was 10, I think it was maybe 2 years from when I started ignoring. My memory is still pretty foggy but I'll try to recount it as best as I can. 

The doctors finally deemed me fit enough to get out of the house for more than an hour. My mother and I were on the playground…I hated that place. It always seemed to be covered in shadows. The insistent voices speaking and chattering on and on about the children. About how nice they looked, about how perfect they were. How much more perfect they were compared to me.

'Go on, go play with the other kids, I'll be right here' she told me with a smile on her face. I hesitantly walked towards the kids playing. I walked and walked, taking caution to not take note of any shadow that seemed to be looming over the children. I walked and eventually made it to the group of kids. 

'H-hi…my name is Edgar Allen Poe. What's your name?' I said, introducing myself. My mother always said it would be good for me to introduce myself first with my full name. 

'I'm Fyodor Mikailovich Dostrovinsky, but you can call me Mika' the boy with blonde hair and green eyes, a small mole on his left cheek said, holding out a hand for me. I took hold of his hand and we began to play. 

We played and we played, I was happy, Mika was so fun. As I played with Mika, the shadows seemed to retreat. 

Eventually, I'd lost track of time and the sky was dark. 

I always hated the dark. That's when those things got more active. 

'Hey, Allen, are you ok? Are you scared?' Mika asked me, looking at me with concern in his green eyes.

'No I just um…I don't like the dark…' I confessed.

He seemed amused but still held his concern. 

'If you're scared, I can hold you? My mom and dad always did that for me when I was scared.' He said, taking me into a hug. I'd been quite sick before, always bedridden. I think it was some kind of side effect or something. His arms wrapped around me and made me feel safe in a way so different from my mothers touch yet still so comforting.

'Hey! I have an idea! Let's take a picture to commemorate this day! The day of our meeting!' 

'O-ok!' I was so happy that day. So happy, I didn't notice my mother stomping over, I only noticed after I was roughly pulled away from Mika. Her expression was strange. It was a mix of fear, anger, and disappointment. Soon, she whisked me away back home. I soon learned why she was upset. 

Mika wasn't real. 

'Didn't you hear me, woman! That kid doesn't need your phony cleaning!"

'Yes he does! His soul is gonna be taken by the devil if you keep giving him all these pills!'

'Are you listening to yourself you crazy woman?! Why did I ever marry you in the first place?!' 

I tried to close my eyes and imagine the warmth I felt for the last 2 years of my life. Whenever I opened them, there he'd be, my knight in striped polo shirt and khaki pants.

He'd always comforted me when I was scared or sad. At least until I turned 14

Eventually my parents split up. It seemed neither of them wanted to take care of me, so. I was dropped off at the nearest orphanage. Once the orphanage decided they couldn't deal with me, I was dropped at the doorstep of the nearest hospital. Parents weren't interested in having a kid who could end up being violent, or one that would need lifelong hospitalization, some even thought that I'd eventually develop DID. All of those were wrong. Schizophrenia doesn't make people violent, it doesn't need life long hospitalization, and people won't just develop DID from it. The orphanage director tried to reason with them but they just wouldn't listen. No one wanted me. Soon, the director, with no other choice, had to get rid of me. Apparently I scared the other kids, scared the parents, and detoured from the director's fundraisers. Guess an albino schizophrenic kid wasn't exactly wonderful for marketing in rural Massachusetts.

After 1 year at the orphanage, I was dropped off at this hospital. The director of the hospital took me in and I've been living here ever since" I told the scruffy man. He said he was some kind of detective. I didn't believe him. He looked like a hobo.

"I see, you may not believe me but, you are neither possessed by the devil nor are you schizophrenic."

He must've expected his words to shock me since once my expression was just the same as always he seemed confused. He cleared his throat, looking a bit awkward. He scratched his head and opened his mustachioed mouth, "I'm here, as a proxy for our leader, to invite you to the paranormal investigation agency."

"What?" 

At this point, I was about 99% certain that this man was tryna get me involved in some mlm scheme or a cult.

"Um sir, I'm sorry but if you're looking for someone to join your mlm scheme, I'm probably the worst person to ask. Can't exactly market or have money in a hospital I'm staying at for free, on top of the fact I'm disowned and dead to my bio parents." 

The man still didn't seem to take the hint that I was not gonna go with him. He seemed to think I was doubting his information because the next thing he said was:

"I can prove that what you have isn't schizophrenia at all." He told me, I did feel a bit interested in whatever this guy was preaching now since he seemed so adamant about it.

I took a deep breath and sighed "ok, if you can prove th I don't have the mental illness that people have diagnosed me with for the past 8 years of my life, sure! Go ahead!" half of me wanted to just prove this guy wrong so he would leave me alone while the other half was genuinely interested in what he had to say.

"I'll come to get you in a week. I'll bring our leader." He said before silently walking out…too silent for a normal human. 

I left the consultation room and headed to the cafeteria. The asylum wasn't exactly the best. But not exactly like the movies either. It sure wasn't luxury but it was fine. The walls weren't completely white. The food was fine, not gourmet but fine.

I was dropped off at the doorstep of the hospital a year after I got to the orphanage. The director of the hospital took pity on me and took me in. I've been doing odd jobs and doing coffee and food runs for the employees ever since.

"Allen! Are you leaving?" One of the nurses, her name was Jamie, asked me. She was the nurse that took care of me. 

"Huh…it's been so long since you've gotten here, it'll be weird for you to leave," she sighed before giving my pills for the day, "I'm glad for you though, you were diagnosed so young we had to double check with multiple doctors from other hospitals since most people get diagnosed at 20 or even 40." She was nice, she was one of the people that actively tried to help me and talk to me without it just being her job, "and, if you still feel out of place or a bother cause of your schizophrenia, don't be. It's actually surprisingly common, since it affects 221 out of 100,000 people". She said with a smile

"It's not that…I just haven't decided yet…" I said quietly after swallowing the pills. They didn't work, none of the treatment ever worked but I just pretend it worked, that seemed to keep people happy, "Though, other than you I doubt anyone would care much if I left, I've been freeloading off you and the hospital after all. I'd be surprised if there wasn't someone who's wishing for me to leave."

"You haven't been freeloading, you've practically been free labor for us. I'd be happy for you if you finally have a home but just remember that if you ever feel you wanna come back we'll always be open to you" She smiled as she set down the flowers on my bedside, "Plus, the children will miss having someone to play with!"

"You mean someone to climb and draw on." 

"You know that's not what I meant, they love you, the staff love you too! We wouldn't have our daily 3 am coffee without you!" She said enthusiastically, "anyways, like I said, you always have a place here". 

I was so grateful to this hospital. It took me in when no one, not even the orphanage would. I'd probably be dead without it. 

I decided I'd take a walk around the hospital's outdoor area. It usually helped me calm down and today, I needed some calm. 

"It's not like I thought I'd stay here forever but…leaving…just the idea of having somewhere else…somewhere to belong feels so foreign to me." I thought, taking a seat on my usual bench.

I liked being outside during the day, less shadows, less voices, less everything. The doctors said that the dark might be a trigger for me. 

"I need to clear my head. It seems like a kidnapping scheme to meet this guy in some random back alley but…if it isn't a kidnapping scheme, I could do something right for once in my life." 

The week went by fast. Every now and then I'd catch myself thinking of the man and his weird proposition.

"You should at least check it out, what's the worst that could happen?" One of my friends said, she's the daughter of one of the doctors, she comes to visit me whenever she's not too busy with college or whenever she comes to visit her parents "Oh I don't know Lex, maybe I'll get kidnapped and trafficked? Hmm, you ever think about that?"

"No one would wanna traffic you"

"Wow. I'll have you know I'm very traffickable" 

"Ok, sure, Mr."I'm not going gray"."

"I'm not! My hair is just going back from black to white cause it's growing out!"

"Alright grandpa, tell me when you get your dentures."

"You're older than me!" 

She took a deep breath before looking at me, a serious expression on her face, "listen. If you do leave…I-…never mind."

"Why? What's up?"

"It-it's nothing you need to know…not right now at least…" she looked down at her lap.

"You're acting weird, are you ok?" 

"I'm fine it's just- I- there's something about this place you need to know…it's-"

"Alexandra, come here" Lisa's voice rang out throughout the Hallway, what was going on? Was Lexie in trouble? Is it because of me?

"Sorry Allen…but…you should get out of here as soon as possible…" 

I layed in bed that night thinking about everything I heard. 

What I heard from the old man.

What I heard from Lexie.

What the shadows were telling me…

What lovely skin

It looks so smooth.

How warm it must be

How tender the flesh must be

My blood ran cold as the voices grew louder and louder. The shadows seemed to grab for me. Trying to drag me away. So, I did what I'd done for 8 years when the voices got too loud, when I was too afraid to look forward. I closed my eyes, hugged myself and covered my body in my blanket.

"Is something going on?" I wondered, "but how could they mean anything bad? They've always been so nice to me?" 

This did no good for me as my thoughts began a downward spiral only getting worse and worse.

Before I knew it, the morning rays had started leaking through the window. 

"Allen!" Jamie said in her usual sing-songy voice, "the director wants to see you!" 

"The director? Why?" I asked, trying to calm my nerves and…the voices. 

"He wants to give you a…farewell gift!" She said…it was still her cheerful usual self but she seemed….different somehow, distracted…hungry.

She hurried me out of my room and to the director's office. 

"Mr. Derek?"

"Allen, there you are, I've been waiting for you!"

You smell wonderful.

I shook my head, pushing the voices away the voices.

"You asked to see me?" I asked, and the director gave me a kind smile.

Your flesh is so warm.

"Why yes I did, why don't you take a seat down? I've made us some tea, I know how much you like your tea." He said with a soft chuckle and a kind smile. The old man never opened his eyes, everyone said he hurt his eyes during the Vietnam war and has been blind ever since…he never did have any scars on his eyes or anything though, I just choked it up to really good plastic surgery.

I pushed my anxious thoughts away and sat down, I looked at the cup of black tea.

"Two cubes of sugar, correct?" He asked me, of which I nodded before looking back at him.

"What did you want to see me for?" 

"I've heard a detective has asked for you?"

"Yes, but I'm pretty sure he's a fake, I mean who's ever heard of a Paranormal investigation unit?" I said, laughing a bit taking a sip of the tea, but…the directors face was fully serious…it was strange. He still smiled but it just seemed too wide and his posture seemed a little too stiff.

Then.

I felt it.

The whole world seemed to spin. 

I fell over, my body draping over the chair's side.

I looked up to the director.

His eyes.

They were open.

They were black.

Like a demon…

Then. 

Everything went black.