DECAY

“Jack, at this point on your therapy.. I think we should increase the dose of your medication.” Jack stood calmly, cross his arms on his chest. Gaze upon his Mrs. Rosa -his therapist- while hearing nothing but the whispers from shadows around him. Letters turned into words, words turned into sentences. Jack tried to overcome those sentences but he couldn’t. “I think you should say, once again.” Jack swallowed, pressed his lips together. After a flickering breath, he was ready to talk . “Things I hear are not true.. They just.. They just come from my mind. They’re not real.. I'm sick.” Mrs. Rosa was about to speak but Jack continued. “Even after 4 years of therapy. I’m still on this chair..” His words were calm like a water, but only a good listener could catch the approaching storm. A storm that wrecked his whole life altogether.