Darkness, My Old Friend

**Sensitive Content Warning**

Mental health & murder



“Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

No one is more shocked than I when my mouth is the one that opens. 

“I can’t.”

My whisper may as well have been a shout in the hushed chapel.

Every horrified look in the room is pointed at me. Guess I’ve finally snapped. 

I drop my gaze, too much of a coward to look at the pools of hurt swirling in my groom’s eyes. There’s no going back now. 

I open my mouth but quickly close it again, turning to look at my guests, hoping that someone has some kernel of wisdom for me. But they’re all staring at me like I’m crazy. Guess they’re not going to be much help. 

Shaking my head, I pull my hands away, square my shoulders, and begin the loneliest walk back down the aisle. 

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I open my eyes, seeing nothing but the fluorescent lights above me, the shadows dancing at the corners of my vision. 

My mind barely registers the beeping in the background before everything fades back to black. 

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“Hannah?”

My name pierces through the fog, and I open my heavy lids, the clouds finally lifting. 

“Oh, good, you’re awake.” A smiling nurse leans over into my field of vision. “How do you feel?”

My only response is to close my eyes again. If I pretend I’m dead, maybe she’ll go away.

“I’m going to go get the doctor, and I’ll be right back.” She gives me what I’m sure she thought was a reassuring pat on the arm before turning and exiting the room. 

Hushed voices drift in through the open door. 

Awake… Vitals normal… Not speaking… Worried…

I try to tune them out. The darkness is beckoning, and it is far less painful to just remain asleep. 

A light knock sounds at the door, but I don’t bother to open my eyes as someone approaches the bed. 

“Hannah, I’m Doctor Anderson.”

I open my eyes to stare at the humming lights on the ceiling. 

“What do you remember?”

Blood…

I can hear him scribbling something down before he rustles around and brings out a small light that he shines so rudely in my eyes. I know what he wants, but I don’t follow the stupid little beacon with my gaze. 

“Hannah, can you look at me?”

I roll my eyes around until I’m staring at his white coat. 

“Do you know where you are right now?”

Does he think I’m an idiot? I roll my eyes back until I’m staring straight up again. 

Doctor What’s-His-Name reaches out and rests his hand on my arm. “Hannah, it’s important that you tell me what you remember.”

Screaming… Crying… Darkness…

Darkness. It welcomes me like a long-lost lover, and I wait for it to swallow me whole again. 

Removing his hand from my arm, the doctor goes back to scribbling something on my chart. He clears his throat before speaking again. “Based on the circumstances surrounding the accident and your current condition, I’m placing you under an involuntary psychiatric hold. Do you understand?”

His words echo through my mind, but I can’t find it within me to care. Instead, I close my eyes again.

This time, the darkness comes to take me home. 

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The next time I open my eyes, I’m lying on a softer bed in a room that’s painted various shades of boring beige and gray. 

My dark friend has abandoned me for the time being, so I sit up in bed, taking in my surroundings. A solitary desk stands alone in the corner, accompanied only by a single chair. There’s a large window in the middle of the wall that I’m sure lets in a lot of light…too bad it’s raining. On the other side of the room, a large metal door stands guard, a small window in the center of it, offering no privacy for the prisoner being held hostage. 

I set my feet on the floor, pushing myself to a standing position. Crossing to the window, I gaze out at the unfamiliar city being drowned by the rain. I raise my hand and trace the water trails dripping down the window, wishing that I, too, could be washed away. 

That’s where the nurse finds me when she enters my room. 

“Oh, good morning, Hannah! It’s nice to see you awake.” She comes to stand next to me at the window, her royal blue scrubs offensively bright in this otherwise bland world created for me. “My name is Cecelia, but you can call me Cece,” she says, smiling at me. 

I let my hand fall back to my side. I just wanted to chase the raindrops in peace. 

Forever hold your peace… Blood…

Looking down at my hands, I let the fragments of memories dance across my vision. If I look hard enough, I can still see the blood covering my hands. 

“Why don’t we join the others for breakfast? Your first session with Doctor Bellows will begin at 10 A.M.” Nurse Smiley has pulled me out of whatever I was beginning to remember. 

With a gentle hand, she grabs me by the elbow and leads me toward the door that’s the only thing protecting me from the outside world. 

Guess I’m going for breakfast. 

Little Miss Sunshine guides me through the halls, guiding me toward the smell of food. Nurses’ stations are placed strategically throughout the floor–one for every block of rooms we pass–nurses and techs buzzing around like the good little worker bees they are. As we walk, I melt under the stares of strangers, and I wonder how often they see new people. 

Sunny guides me around the corner, and we pass what looks like a community room. I take a quick glance, noting the TV in the locked box, shelves lined with old books, and board games and puzzles littering every available surface. If I had to guess, I’d imagine they’re missing most of the pieces–much like the people who live here. 

The end of the hall opens into a large room, standard cafeteria-style tables lining the walls. My nurse shows me where to get my food and says she’ll save me a seat. 

I wander over to the line of food, the smell and appearance of breakfast making me nauseous. I settle for an apple, and I join Miss Perky Pants at the table she selected. Sitting down, I place the apple on the table in front of me but make no move to eat. 

“Hannah, you should really try to eat something,” Sunshine urges. 

Lifting my apple up off the table, I begin to pick at the peel, dropping the little shreds to the floor. 

Nurse Smiley watches me dissect my apple until we’re the only ones left in the room. “Hannah, we can’t leave until you at least take a bite.”

My apple is naked and is starting to turn brown by the time she sighs, gives me a sad smile, and says it’s time to meet Doctor Bellows. 

She gathers my apple pieces, tossing them into the trash before guiding me out of the cafeteria and through another maze of hallways. 

We stop outside a door, the name “Matthias Bellows, M.D.” etched on a gold plate fastened to the pristine wood. 

The living Ray of Sunshine knocks and waits for an invitation before pushing me through the door, closing it behind her. 

The man in front of me looks too old to be a doctor. Although well-groomed, his white hair and beard age him, making him appear more like someone’s kind grandpa than a psychiatrist, and the wrinkles and laugh lines on his face give him the appearance of someone who isn’t haunted by years of patients’ traumas. 

He stands and smiles as I stumble into the room, taking a seat in the comfy chair in front of his desk. 

“Hannah, it’s nice to finally meet you.” He holds his hand out, but I just stare. 

Clearing his throat, he drops his hand and sits back down, pulling a chart in front of him. 

“So, Hannah, do you know why you’re here?”

I imagine I’m here because of the murder. The thought surprises me, but I just continue to stare at the desk.

Doctor Grandpa pulls a pair of glasses out of a drawer and begins to look over the paperwork. “Four weeks ago, you were found unconscious in the woods behind Little White Chapel.”

Four weeks… 

My wedding day flashes before my eyes. I was so happy…but the darkness told me to leave. 

I move my gaze down to my hands, not wanting to look at the kind eyes staring at me with sympathy and pretend understanding. 

“Hannah, can you tell me what happened that day?”

I don’t move a muscle. How do you explain that you left your soulmate standing at the altar because you love the darkness more? 

Doctor Grandpa looks back down. “It says here that you were found in a wedding dress. Can you tell me about that?”

Because it was my wedding day, you twit. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. 

“Doctor Anderson tried to speak to your emergency contact, a Mr. Liam Jones, but was unable to reach him. Can you tell me about Liam?”

Tears sting my eyes at the mention of Liam’s name. 

Doctor Grandpa stands up, walks around his desk, and sits in the chair next to me. I imagine this is supposed to bring me comfort, but I bristle at the close proximity. 

He pulls his papers across the desk and continues reading. “Who is Martha Davis?” he asks, looking back up at me.

My blood runs cold at the mention of my mother. All it takes is her name to bring back every horrific memory I’ve tuned out. I wrap my arms around myself as I try to lock it all back in its box. Just lock it away, Hannah. She can’t hurt you anymore. She can’t hurt anyone anymore.

Doctor Grandpa keeps speaking, but his words are nothing but a mumble as I’m transported back to the night of the murders. 

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On the other side of my bedroom wall, Momma’s fists crashed through the plaster. I hurried off my bed, heading for the shadows when the yelling began.

From a young age, I learned to hide and stay out of Momma’s way when she was in one of her “moods.” But some days, her personality changes gave me whiplash.

Her screams filled the small apartment as she yelled at my father for whatever perceived sin he’d committed this time. As she raged, footsteps sounded down the hall, and as my bedroom door creaked open, I pushed myself further into the corner, willing the wall to envelop me. 

My dad’s head poked around the corner, his gaze scanning the room. He spotted me just as Momma threw something down the hall, sending it crashing into the wall. I choked out a small sob, knowing that if Momma heard me, I’d get a yelling at, too. 

“Shhh, Princess. It’s going to be okay.” Dad crossed the room and scooped me up in his arms. He cradled me close, swaying from side to side. 

Burying my head in his neck, I clung to him. My rock. My protector. 

“Mommy’s just having a bad day. It’s all going to be all right.” He turned and set me on the floor in front of my closet. “I want you to hide in here until I come to get you. Okay?”

I nodded my understanding. 

Kissing me on the head, my dad stood and walked away, turning the light out before he shut the door quietly behind him. 

Hours later, the screaming finally stopped. 

I waited for Daddy to come get me, but he never came. Since Momma’s mood had passed, I crawled out of my closet and tip-toed to the door. 

Poking my head around the corner, I looked down the hallway toward the kitchen and heard nothing. I snuck down the hallway, but the darkness came to save me for the first time when I saw my dad’s and sister’s bodies lying on the living room floor in a pool of blood.

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“Hannah?”

I look up as something pulls me out of the memories. Looking around the room, I try to gather my bearings. 

So much blood… I was coated from head to toe…

“Hannah, you have a previous diagnosis of dissociative identity disorder. Growing up in the environment you did, your mind developed a coping mechanism to protect you.” Doctor Grandpa pulls the glasses off his face and assumes a traditional “therapist pose.”

He leans forward in his chair. “Has anyone ever discussed this with you before?”

I turn away from him and stare up at the boring flower painting on the wall.  

Doctor Grandpa takes the hint and leans back in his chair, placing the glasses back on his face so he can continue reading. 

“I understand that two years ago, you were engaged to Mr. Jones until his unfortunate passing.” 

I snap my head back down. Two years… Liam dead…?

“Can you tell me how his passing affected you?”

Nothing happened, you oaf. He’s not dead. We were set to be married four weeks ago…until the darkness called for me. 

My hands shake as a familiar anger bubbles up inside of me, and I look away to try to control myself. 

“Based on your diagnosis, it’s not surprising that you’ve blocked out the memory. I’m sure that was very painful for you.” The sympathy has returned to Doctor Grandpa’s eyes. “Why don’t you start by telling me about Mr. Jones?”

The memories came crashing back. 

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Blood…

Liam held his hands up to cover his face as I clawed at him. I was foaming at the mouth with anger as the darkness coated my senses, coaxing me on. 

“Hannah, stop!” Liam’s voice was faded as it skirted around the darkness swirling in my mind. 

It’s his fault we’re miserable. He’ll never understand. The darkness whispered sweet nothings in my ears. 

Liam reached out to grab me by the arms, giving me a forceful shake. But the darkness was all-consuming; I didn’t want to snap out. 

You have to end it, Hannah.

I went limp in Liam’s arms. He searched my face, looking for a glimpse of the woman he loved. Giving him a small smile to ease his fears, I reached up and stroked his cheek. 

Liam let loose a sigh of relief and loosened his hold on me. “How would you feel about visiting Doctor Glass and having him adjust your medication?” 

I gave him a small nod before turning to the sink. 

Liam gave me one of his dazzling smiles and pulled out his phone to dial my doctor. 

Reaching for the large knife in the sink, I ran my finger over the blade, testing the sharpness. 

He wants to separate us, Hannah. I don’t want to lose you. The darkness caressed my mind. 

As the tears rolled down my face, I whipped around, knife poised above me, and I brought it down to Liam’s chest. 

Shock and betrayal flickered across his face as the life slowly drained out of him. 

Dropping the knife, I held onto his body as we sank to the floor together. 

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“Hannah?” Doctor Grandpa once again pulls me back from the past. 

Tears spill over as I’m bombarded by the memory. And just as a toxic lover does, the darkness once again skims the edges of my mind. 

For years, Liam’s murder had been unsolved. I had managed to call for an ambulance that night, but in my hysteria, I had ripped the knife from his chest. The police assumed that’s why they only found my prints. 

And my dark friend told me to support that theory. They can never know, Hannah. Together, we spun a story of a break-in-gone-wrong, and for years, they treated me as the grieving fiancé, capable of no wrong. 

As time passed, the lines became blurred, and I lived my life in the shadows of what could have been.

An empty chapel… My wedding dress… A long-dead groom…

The darkness moves into the cracks of my fractured reality, swirling around in my mind once again, and I welcome it home. 

They can never know, Hannah, it whispers in my ear. 

For the first time since entering the office, my eyes meet Doctor Grandpa’s, and he gives me a soft smile. 

I know what I have to do.