Ice. The concrete floor was ice, biting my bare feet with its broad and complanate talons. I don’t remember sitting up, but I must have, because my back ached at being upright for the first time in what must have been an eternity. There was a thin curtain, patterned with smiley faces, surrounding my bed. The bed, really more of a cot, was small and the sheets were rough as sandpaper. Where was I? Why was there a pain in the back of my head that pulsed stronger with each movement? The questions whirled in a rhythm that opposed the way the room seesawed. I realized that I was connected to an I.V. and started to take it out. The tape gluing it down wasn’t painful to remove. However, the tube was, as it tugged on my skin when I went to stand. A loud beeping noise echoed from the machine to my right. Frantically, in an effort to make it stop, I knocked over the I.V.; the tube ripped free of my arm and blood spilled onto my nightgown. I heard footsteps coming towards me and sat down on the bed, trying to act natural. A man in his fifties pulled back the curtain and stared at me with an annoyed look.
“Celina, why? Was this really necessary?” he questioned me, already cleaning up the mess. I stared at him blankly, trying to figure out what he was saying.
“Who are you? Where am I?” I asked, trying to keep tears of confusion out of my eyes.
Understanding crossed his face; he took my hand and said, “I am Dr. Teivel, and we have been working together for about six months now. We are currently in the infirmary of the Bradlee’s Mental Institution. You joined us a while ago when you where diagnosed with schizophrenia. How are you feeling?” All oxygen left me. What he said started to sink in. I wasn’t just sick; I was insane.

“Schizophrenic? I’m schizophrenic?” I asked, taken aback at the pseudo-accusation. My mind was in a million places at once. His black eyes squinted at me in a silent smile.

“Yes! And it’s nothing to be ashamed of! Did you know that one in four adults suffers from mental illness?” he said, blinding me with his smile. I turned away from him. He wasn’t bad looking for a man of his age. His dark brown skin wasn’t overly wrinkled, and he seemed to be physically fit and of a tidy manner; yet there was something off-putting about him. I decided to think about it later.
“It’s almost lunch time; are you hungry? We can talk later about your memory loss,” he asked.
I responded quietly, “Okay. Can you show me to the dining area?”
With a sad smile he said, “You’ll dine here. You still have a week left of solitary confinement. I’ll talk to the higher-ups; maybe they’ll lessen the treatment. I think the therapy worked!”

Dr. Teivel brought me a tray with some toast and a sliced chicken breast. He sat in the corner as I ate my humble meal; he was reading S.M. Stirling’s Conquistador.
“Is it good?” I asked, biting in to the bland chicken.
He looked up, “Did you say something, Celina?”
“ Yeah, uh- the book you’re reading, is it good?” I replied.
He shook his head at the book and said, “No, I hate it actually. I’ve been trying to read more; I’m not much for fiction. The higher-ups said you could join the other patients tomorrow. I’ll come back then. Let me know if you need anything by pressing the button on the side of your bed.”
I nodded at him and watched him leave the room. There was nothing to do in there but stare into space. I started to lie back down, but something caught my eye. A girl was standing in the corner of my room, smiling at me. She was probably around 13 years old, her blonde hair was a curly, tangled mess yet still framed her round face, and a large scar ran from the left side of her hairline down to her bright blue eyes. She looked like she had stepped out of a horror movie. I let out a little shriek.
She rushed to my side and said, “Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you! Oh, I’m so happy you’re awake; it was lonely here without you.” I leaned away from her trying to figure out what was happening. She must have been one of the patients here; I was guessing that we were friends.
“Hi. My memory has been a little on the slow side. Who are you?” I asked as politely as possible. A look of complete horror crossed her face. “You don’t remember me? I’m Maya, I was a patient here in 1941.”

I stared at her. She held my gaze waiting for a response.
“1941? You must be crazy! It’s already 2025. There’s no way!” I said, incredulous. She pulled over the chair that Dr. Teivel had been sitting in and sat in it facing me.

“Allow me to explain. You aren’t actually schizophrenic; you have a rare talent-“ she started. I waved my hands at her.
“Whoa, hold on! I’m not schizophrenic? What are you talking about?” I shouted. The back and forth of my supposed mental state was giving me whiplash.

“Shh! I will explain everything, but you need to stay quiet until I’m done,” she whispered, her eyes wide. Reluctantly, I nodded. She took a deep breath and continued.

“You have a very rare talent called visiomundi, which means, “world-vision.” Basically, you are able to see into other dimensions. Other people who don’t have that talent think you are speaking to a hallucination, which leads them to thinking you are schizophrenic. I live in the dimension in which this institution first opened. I was admitted because I had, well have, the same talent as you.”

I raised my hand like a child in elementary school. She smiled her consent. “If all of this is true why don’t I remember it? Is it because of the ‘therapy’ that Dr. Teivel talked about?”
She wrinkled her forehead at me, twisting her scar unpleasantly. “Yeah, about that, the therapy he mentioned was really an induced coma. It caused your memory loss. There are some things you need to know about this place. It was built in 1887 under the name of State Lunatic Hospital of Danvers. Things went horribly wrong here and it was demolished in 2006. Dr. Teivel himself rebuilt it a few years ago. His great-grandfather works in the dimension in which I exist,” she explained. She looked over her shoulder, nodding at someone I couldn’t see. Turning back to me she explained, “I have to go. Whatever you do, don’t trust the doctor! I’ll be back tomorrow.” She vanished back into her world without another word.
The light that was filtering through the thin curtain had faded from a bright yellow to a muted purple. My stomach had started to grumble, and I realized how much time had passed. I felt along the side of the cot, and sure enough there was a small button there. I pressed my ring finger into the button. There were footsteps, a door opening and closing, and once again my curtain was pulled back.
A young man stood there. He had the same features as Dr. Teivel but looked around twenty years younger. The only differences, besides age, were that his eyes were a warm brown and his smile was a tight line. He gave me a worried look before sitting on the end of my bed.
“I’m sure we’re friends…. or something…. but, who are you?” I inquired. I searched his eyes in hopes of finding some sort of recognition, but came up empty handed. His eyes welled with tears.
“Father told me, but I didn’t want to believe it, “ he whimpered, “Have you seen anything since waking up? Any hallucinations?” He had ignored my question; I couldn’t help but feel slightly bothered by that.
“Nope. Do you want to tell me who you are or not?” I said, my voice a little louder. He looked from side to side, checking to see if we were alone. Looking me in the eye, he smiled a wide grin, took my face in his large hands, and kissed me roughly. I pushed on his chest to escape his embrace.
“You pig! How dare you try something like that!? I don’t even know your name!” I hollered. Hastily, I got out of bed and crossed to the side where he wasn’t standing.
“Sorry, babe. I thought you might like a celebratory kiss. You are cured, aren’t you?” he said, feigning hurt.
“First of all, don’t call me “babe.” Second, touch me again, and I’ll break your face. Lastly, tell me your goddamn name!” I said, my temper rising with each word. I sighed and tried to be patient, not an easy task.
“No, babe-got it. I’m Paul, but pronounced Pah-oooool. One question…”
I raised an eyebrow at him, “I’m listening.”
“How am I supposed to refrain from touching someone so beautiful?” he smiled. His last remark was so disgustingly charming that I was forced to choke back the bile that had risen in the back of my throat. “Would you like to see yourself? I brought a mirror for you,” he offered. Realization dawned on me; he had brought me a mirror despite the fact that I probably wasn’t allowed to have one. I relaxed a little at his gesture of affection. Closing the space between us, I took the mirror.
“Thanks,” I muttered. The image on the reflective glass startled me. The woman’s face pictured there was nothing like I had imagined it. She was older than I expected, probably in her twenties, her obsidian hair was straight though slightly tangled, aquamarine cat eyes gazed at me analytically. It felt as if I were looking at a stranger, a familiar one though, but certainly not myself. He was right, I was beautiful. I hesitated, but handed the mirror back to him.
“Thank you. I will try to remember you, but I can’t promise anything,” I said softly. His eyes were tender when he said, “If you cannot remember me, then I will try to forget you as well, but I can’t promise anything.” With that, he kissed my forehead lightly and exited the room, leaving me alone once again. I finally lay down and slept ceaselessly until morning.
A small alarm clock had been placed on a table next to my cot. At exactly 6 am it chirped happily, waking me for the day. I stretched, rubbed my eyes, and sat up. Sleepily, I realized that someone had also placed a stack of clothes on the end of the bed. I got dressed quickly to the soundtrack of my grumbling stomach. With a breath, I allowed myself to grasp exactly how terrified I was of what lay beyond my thin curtain of happiness. I tore back the curtain. The rest of the room was nothing special, there were other curtains similar to mine, a cobweb woven in the corner of two paint-cracked walls. The handle on the door to the outside world was cold, like everything else there. With a twist of the handle, I entered the corridor. Light filtered through the large windows lining the walls to my left and right. I walked down the hall to my right, following the distant sounds of conversing. I found the source of the noise: Dr. Teivel was talking to Paul about preparing some patient for therapy. It was a short moment before they acknowledged my presence.
“Good morning, Celina. I’m glad you found us! We were just about to come retrieve you,” said the doctor.
Paul chimed in, “Can I show you to the kitchen? Breakfast doesn’t start for a while, but we can do breakfast in the garden together if you like.” My stomach growled in agreement.
We spent the whole morning enjoying veggie sandwiches(apparently I was a vegetarian), and he told me all about “us.” At around 10 am, he delivered me to a small room on the fifth floor of the gothic, castle-like sanatorium. A grizzly looking man sat at the head of a circle of chairs.
Paul motioned to the man and said, “Celina, this is Mr. Jaccoby, he leads group therapy.” He smiled a tight smile at Mr. Jaccoby and left us alone.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Jaccoby. Can I sit next to you?” I asked. His large hand patted the seat next to his, and he honored me with a toothy grin that crept up to his emerald eyes that were framed by crows feet.
“Please, call me Benny. How are you? I have been worried about your recovery from ‘therapy.’” I was surprised that he cared so much. He was the first one to worry about my wellbeing more than whether or not I was “cured.”
“Well, um, my memory is basically shot, my head hurts like hell, and I was visited by a girl from the 1900s…” I babbled, unable to control my mouth. I took a seat and face palmed. He rubbed my back in an effort to soothe me.
“We’ll get through this, I promise. I wish that I could have stopped them from doing such terrible things to you. Maya was a mess when she found out that you were in a coma; followed me everywhere. You probably don’t remember, but I have visiomundi as well, I had been working with you on hiding it from the doctors. You can trust me,” he elucidated. I beamed at him, thrilled that someone understood my situation enough to explain it to me. He glanced at the door before saying, “We will talk later, but group therapy is about to start.”
Right on cue, a group of patients shuffled through the door. They all sat down in the circle before Benny started the session.
“Welcome everyone! Celina is joining us today. She hasn’t made a full recovery just yet, so let’s be kind. Would you like to start?” He said to the girl on his right. She was stout, had dirty blonde hair and almond shaped blue eyes. She was pretty, but sort of generic.
Standing, she started, “Sure. I’m Aerika. My paranoia has gotten a little better this last week. I was able to hold a conversation for a full 15 minutes with a woman I met in the farmer’s market. That’s a new record for me!” She sat down and accepted the congratulation that filled the room. I, too, was happy for her. She looked at me dubiously. The girl next to her stood once the talking stopped. This girl was taller and lanky; she had caliginous brunette hair and eyes that were more of the same.
“Hello, everyone. I’m Ellie. I’m pretty much the same as always, taking things one day at a time, supported by my friend Celexa. We’ll see how this one works out.” Everyone smiled at her as she sat down. This group seemed fairly supportive, it was comforting to know. The boy, man rather, to Ellie’s right stood. He was daringly handsome. He was at least six feet tall and muscular, his neatly parted sandy blonde hair was the perfect compliment to his emerald eyes. His hamartia wasn’t visible, that was if he even had one. He inhaled deeply as he stood.
He spoke in a husky voice: “Hey, I’m Zeke. It’s good to have you back, Celina.” He smiled at me. I returned the friendly gesture before he continued. “Impertinent dismal-dreaming nut-hook! Rank boil-brained blind-worm!” I cast a confused look at Benny.
With a slightly embarrassed look, he’d whispered in my ear, “He has Tourette’s, he is also a former Skakespearean actor. That’s why his insults are so, um, unique.” I smiled in understanding. The next boy who was sitting next to me decided to pass, which meant it was my turn. Slowly, I stood.
“Hi. I’m Celina. It’s been a little rough adjusting back,” I looked at Benny silently asking if it was okay to tell them about Maya, his look reassured me. “The doctors think I’m cured. I know I’m not because a girl named Maya visited me yesterday in my room. I don’t know what to do.” The other patients gave me sad looks. It was nice that they were considerate of me. The rest of the meeting was pretty quiet. I was overjoyed when we all went and enjoyed lunch together. Having friends is nice.
After lunch I went back to my room to rest. I had only been resting peacefully for ten short minutes, when Dr. Teivel came into the room. He sat on the end of my bed, the way his son had the night before.
“Celina, we need to talk. One of the other patients mentioned a friend of yours named Maya. Can you tell me about that?” My heart dropped, and my throat grew tight.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I answered. He clenched his jaw at me. He was clearly not amused.
“You are obviously not cured, all we want is the best for you. I’ve come to retrieve you for one last attempt at treatment. If this doesn’t work, I don’t know what will. Paul!” the doctor barked for his son. Paul entered with a determined look and a straightjacket.
“What the hell is going on here! Why are you doing this?” I cried as they wrapped me up. I kicked my legs at them and yelled, trying to break free, but they were too strong. Dr. Teivel slapped duct tape over my enraged plea. They barely struggled to carry me down the corridor leading to the left. We entered a room that was half the size of the one I had had group therapy in. They threw me on a tall table that stood in the center of the room and proceeded to put restraints on my arms and legs. I struggled against the restraints with all my might; I refused to give up without a fight. They started gluing electrodes to my head. It dawned on me that they were about to attempt electroshock therapy. Tears streamed down the sides of my face, and my chest heaved as much as the constriction would allow. Maya appeared in the corner. She rushed to my side, but said nothing. There was nothing to say after all, especially when your eyes were as expressive as hers. I looked up at the ceiling. It was a putrid shade of pink, mimicking Pepto-bismol; unlike the medicine, it didn’t calm my stomach. This was what I thought about as Paul pressed the button that would surely send me to my grave.
Dr. Teivel leaned over me and with an air of self-importance and said, “Sorry, but your abilities put us all at risk. You understand, right?” With that, the pain penetrated my mind along with Maya’s wailing scream. The world went black.
Ice. The concrete floor was ice, biting my bare feet with its broad and complanate talons. There was a thin curtain, patterned with smiley faces, surrounding my bed. The bed, really more of a cot, was small and the sheets were rough as sandpaper. Where was I?