unfinished novel concept written in 2021

It’s noon, though you can’t tell being inside. It’s my last day in this place. I daydreamed of my life on the outside as I waited in the hospital hallway—fourth floor, behavioral health.

“These are the last of your things,” One of the nurses handed me my bag. One of my friends brought a duffle bag for me, green and white. I thanked the nurse, grabbed my bag, and waited for them to open the locked doors. My escort waited for me in the sitting area right outside the locked doors. It was a friend I entrusted with my location. I call her Maya, though her real name is entirely different and hard to pronounce. Sounded better to me.

She didn’t hug me when she saw me. It was more of a soft smile. Throughout our years together, she learned my distaste for hugs. She insisted on carrying my bag as we walked to the front of the hospital. There wasn’t much talking between us, just silence.

Being there for a week, I missed the outside world. I took a deep breath as soon as the wind hit me. It’s been three times now that I’ve been admitted to the hospital. I may miss the outside world now, but there’s this nagging feeling that I’ll be back soon enough.

“Want me to come over?” Maya asked me, with a look that seemed a bit too concerned for my comfort. I feel she might want to talk about why I was admitted again. I mean, I never really told her why. I just gave her a packing list and location, and she delivered.

“No, that’s okay, I’ll be fine,” Yet my reassurance wasn’t enough. She insisted again, but I just headed to my car, giving an apathetic peace sign on my way there. She went to her car, too, but didn’t leave until she couldn’t see my car anymore. She worries too much about me.

As you can tell, I’m on medication at this moment. Because of how they made me feel in the hospital, my psychiatrist took them off my list of meds, but I still take them. They numb me, and that’s exactly what I need. I don’t feel happiness or sadness. However, I’m scared another form will arise, so I won’t be able to take these for much longer.

“What do I do now?” I was contemplating calling out of work or going back. They told me they wanted a status as soon as I was released. Being so unsure and emotionless, I went home instead, knocking out as soon as I hit my bed.

A few days later…

“Emilia?” a nurse called out. I feel more present today, which is dangerous. After grabbing my vitals and weight, I walked back to her office. Fear flooded my senses, and I started feeling fuzziness. “You seem a little out of it today?” She hid her chuckles, but it was known.

“Believe it or not, I was fine before I came in here,” I know what she was commenting on—my appearance. See, I… change anytime I feel anything. Like, PHYSICALLY. I started naming them. Fuzzy is what I call dissociation. She makes me have a TV for a head, and I’m not fond of that, as you can imagine.

“Let’s try some grounding techniques,” She started asking me about the five senses, and eventually, I was back to my non-TV self. “What’s been going on today?” Another question I wasn’t prepared to answer. I’ve been feeling a variety of moods, so it’s hard telling her just one. I’ve been so isolated, in fear that someone will see me change. I take mind-numbing meds, NOT to feel anything. And she’s asking me this?

“You know, emotions,” I gave the shortest answer possible. I am trying to get better- or at least I was. I gave up after a while. I mean, who wants to change into different emotions physically? Only my therapist and parents know about this, and I want to keep it that way.

The appointment carried on for another 40 minutes. Putting on a mask is all I can do to stop the change quickly in the car. As soon as my body feels funny, I rush away. “This can’t keep happening,” I mutter. Something has to change.

On the way home, my mind started wandering again, mainly positive thoughts. I constantly daydream about what life would be like without this ability. It looks more carefree and more straightforward. Nothing good can come from any of this; at least, that’s what I believe.

I was almost home when something happened, or rather, it didn’t. I was unable to move, unable to speak. It was like I was paralyzed, but nothing egged it on. Everything went black around me; the world was crumbling below my feet. I’ve never felt this intensity before.  I couldn’t even see my car anymore or anyone else. Where did this come from?

When I came to, and before I knew it, I was off the road, aiming at a tree. This was it. I was going to die. I prepared for the impact, releasing my hands from the steering wheel. If I live, at least I won’t have broken arms. I clenched my eyes shut and accepted my fate.

Time passed—a little too much time. I then opened my eyes, and I was Anxious and alive.

---

Another day, another fight, I thought, wondering when things would change. I was in an area known to change all the time. It was deserted, but who knows for how long. I was headed towards one door, particularly a building named “Sylvia’s,” slowly decaying above what were once pretty double doors. Who the hell is Sylvia anyway? Didn’t they make organic toys or something? Thinking about it made me even more heated, stomping to the entrance. I felt my temperature rising. I let myself feel these emotions as I seemed to burn everything in my path. As soon as the doors were arms-length away, I slammed into them, nearly breaking them off the hinge. I just stood there at the entrance, holding the wooden doors. My eyes were on me as the ashes of the burning wood I held flew further into the empty, open room. “Why are we always meeting in a damn warehouse?!” My shout bounced off the walls. It wasn’t long till someone intercepted.

“That’s a good point. There’s an ice cream joint down the road. We can rob them and keep the place to ourselves. It wouldn’t be hard with our powers,” Kelvin, a very typical American dream of a man, declared. I think he was serious, too.

Astra, embarrassed to ever say what her real name is, gave him a look,’ “We’re supers, not villains. I’m starting to think we found the wrong villain.” She and Kelvin always seem to disagree about being a couple. I logged out of the conversation at this point. I held the doors for so long that they weren’t even doors anymore—just ash. Yeah, I was holding my air this whole time.

Words crossed back and forth from person to person. We were getting a bit off-topic. However, Maya, our fearless leader, took control. She’s probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, her black hair and tan skin glistening in my gaze. She stood up as she spoke, “Guys, come on. We can talk about this later.” The argument became chatter as the attention returned to why we were there.

“We could’ve at least gotten chairs,” Kelvin had to add his 2 cents. “This dusty floor is messing up my suit.” As I joined the group, my flames simmered.

“You guys get my text?” I looked down to see everyone pulling out their phones.

“Which one?” Asked Astra, “This group chat is just full of memes.”

I muttered in disappointment and frustration, “There was another occurrence. It’s on the news this time.”

To be continued…