Monochromatic

**This story includes depictions of mental health and death. There is nothing graphic, but these topics are touched on**

I had never been quite fond of Eve.

As her psychiatric nurse – the buoy who kept her from drowning in an ocean of madness – I should have made an effort to respect my patient. I should have.

And yet, I couldn’t. It was unbearable to deal with a soul so far gone. Someone so dreadfully insane.

Nonetheless, Evelyn Barrett was still mine to care for. My own burden. It was odd to dwell on the fact that someone so young – barely even eighteen, to be exact – could mentally fall down such a slippery slope. Eve was admitted to the sanitarium around two months ago, following her breakdown at school. According to her classmates, Eve had never been social. She tended to keep to herself when given the choice; and, while this was not abnormal behavior for a teenage girl, it had always been different with Eve. Well — it had grown to become different.

Students began reporting “incidents” involving Eve. They would hear her muttering to herself in class – her words unintelligible, but her whispers crazed. They would hear her sobbing in bathroom stalls. Her teachers noticed her grades slipping. Eve would write ominous messages on her papers, and she would draw horrific drawings in her notebook. Drawings of characters plucked straight from horror movies. 

Monsters.

Though her behavior was abnormal, Eve caused no problems. She remained silent, which was nothing out of the ordinary. She basked in the endless insanity of her paranoid, twisted mind; but, at that time, no one was aware of how truly twisted it was. 

After months of containment, Eve suddenly exploded. She jumped up in the middle of class and shrieked, screaming bloody murder. Accounts of the story from her classmates explained that Eve screamed, “Leave me alone!” dozens of times. According to the witnesses, Eve was not talking to a specific person.

Not one that anyone could see, anyway.

Her teachers restrained her and subdued her screams. Her behavior was, according to her classmates, purely and utterly horrifying.

Insane.

And so, I was stuck with Evelyn Barrett.

I tried to build connections with my patients; and, usually, I was successful. Over my years as a nurse, I liked to think that my psychological support helped my patients heal. It did. There was no doubt about it. I did my job well.

Until Eve came along.

For some odd reason, I could not break through with Eve; break into her subconscious and heal her fragile mind. Whenever I tried to talk to her, she would do one of two things. Either she would completely block me out – or she would scream nonsense at me. In any case, neither method was beneficial in the slightest. The past two months had consisted of pointless therapy sessions and no progress whatsoever.

I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the poor girl.

As I walked into my tidy office, I pushed out a sigh and slumped into my armchair. Eve was scheduled to meet with me at any second, and to be quite honest, I was dreading our session. Up until now, my day had been calm. My serenity was about to be interrupted simply by being in the presence of the crazed child.

Three knocks on the door was all it took. My spine straightened and I felt the muscles in my neck tighten; my automatic physical response whenever Eve was near. The creaking of the door disturbed my therapeutic silence, and as I watched a caretaker escort Eve through the doorway, a queasy feeling began to form in my gut. Eve seemed on edge today – more on edge than normal. Her long cascade of honey-blond hair was ruffled, as though she couldn’t be bothered to run a comb through it. Her face was a sickly shade of white. The shadows casted upon her face complimented the lack of life within her frozen, gray eyes. Eyes that hardly looked like eyes at all. 

She looked dreadful.

The caretaker made sure that Eve settled comfortably on the couch before taking her leave. Nevertheless, Eve looked nothing but uncomfortable. She brought her knees to her chest and hugged them tightly, her body resembling something of a ball. Her hands shook while her feet tapped on the cushion, over and over again. It was easy to assume that nerves had Eve in a choke-hold.

“How are you doing today, Eve?” I asked the girl, my voice visibly annoyed. I didn’t care enough to put on a facade for her. Eve wasn’t fond of me, as far as I could tell. It was obvious by the way her eyes ever-so-slightly cut into my face as though they were two honed knives. Regardless, the feeling was mutual, and so treating one another this way had become routine.

Usually when I asked her a question, Eve ignored it completely. I assumed she would simply ignore me by the way her gaze dug into my skin, and so I wasted no time before pulling out my notebook. Lazily, I jotted down a note. ‘Silence,’ I wrote. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Until I heard a raspy breath emerge from her mouth.

“He’s going to kill me soon,” Eve muttered, her voice barely a whisper. I could hardly comprehend her words. Her empty eyes widened as her fingernails dug into her pants. The girl rocked back and forth in a crazed manner – almost as though she truly feared for her life.

I, for one, believed that Eve was bananas; but, as her nurse, I could not disregard such an alarming phrase. “Who? Who’s going to kill you?” I asked as calmly as possible. Though I knew that Eve was completely mad – I knew that she was – her words still managed to send a chill through my bones.

Eve disregarded my words for a moment, her mind unable to flee from whatever eternal nightmare it was trapped in. Her gaze remained on the ground and focused on anything but me. Seconds ticked by. Minutes.

Finally, Eve’s eyes snapped to mine, somehow more frantic than before. “He’s taking over my life. The world around me. Everything,” She snapped loudly, her sharp words making me flinch. Her body recoiled after her outburst, and she scrunched back into her ball with a shaken expression on her face. “He’s going to kill me soon,” She repeated. “I just know it.”

With a sigh, I set my notebook aside and leaned forward. This wasn’t the first time that Eve had acted up during a session, but this was the first time that she seemed so… sure. So sure about the fact that something was bothering her. I said, “You are safe here, Eve. Nothing is going to kill you. This is all in your mind, okay? You're okay–”

“No. Please, Debby, I am not insane. This is real,” Eve persisted. Hearing her say my name was odd. She had never addressed me before, and until now, I did not know that she even knew my name. “He’s… he’s out to get me, the Shadow Man, he’s–”

“The ‘Shadow Man?’” I repeated incredulously. Despite Eve’s urgency, I did not believe her words. Her crazed, perplexing words. She had never once opened up to me like this, and so I had no reason to believe that she was telling the truth now. Instead of dismissing her comment, I wanted to dig further. It was my job, after all. “Who is he?”

Eve shuddered as though a gust of icy wind had blown through the room. “I don’t know.” She paused abruptly and locked eyes with me. “But he takes things from me. He steals them.”

Despite my confusion, I played into her claim. “What does he take from you?”

Eve blinked multiple times. “Color.”

“Color?”

“The color that I see.”

The color that she sees. 

“What does that mean, Eve?” I asked, and anxiety grasped my brain. Her answer, while strange, was also oddly specific. And something about that was off-putting.

Color blindness. Was that what Eve was hinting at? Were colors fading from her vision? I took my assumption and rolled with it. “Does your family have a history of color blindness?” That sounded about right. Perhaps Eve was losing her sense of color, and she was freaking out about it. That wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary – but, it was obviously nothing to go crazy about.

“No, no, it’s not color blindness. He takes the color from me,” She snapped again, her expression flushing with maroon fury. “You’re wrong. I am not crazy. You think I am, but I’m not. I’m not.” Suddenly, Eve was on her feet, marching across the room to my desk. I sat up out of habit and hesitated. Eve seemed angry. Was she going to attack me? Grab for a weapon? I decided to take no chances, and I, too, rose to my feet. I turned to face Eve, only to find that she was inspecting various objects on my desk. Colored pens, post-its, my computer. “It’s all black and white. Everything.” She picked up a lime green post-it and shook it in her hand. “I can’t tell what color this is. He stole it from me. It’s gone, it’s all gone, he’s gonna kill me once everything is gone–”

“Eve. Calm down–”

“No, I can’t, I–” Eve paused abruptly when her eyes fell upon a particular object on my desk. Her mouth gaped open as she snatched the object, inspecting it in awe. I almost reached for her arm and demanded for her to put the object down – but I restrained myself.

Eve held the card that my daughter had made for me years ago. On the front of the card was a drawing of a rainbow, colored messily with Crayon. My daughter had hand-crafted the card when I fell terribly ill, and I believe that the card itself had cured me. I had kept it lying on my desk all these years, and the messy rainbow had been my constant reminder that color can supply us with life and wellness.

And now, as Eve’s shaky hands grasped the card, I fought the urge to snatch it from her. This card was precious to me. I couldn’t risk her ruining it.

“This! It’s–... it’s colorful!” She gasped in awe, her eyes absorbing the card as though it sparkles were emitting from it. “I can see the rainbow! There’s… he hasn’t stolen it from me!” Suddenly, Eve’s guard was up once again, and she clenched the card against her chest. I winced as the paper grew crinkled in her strong grasp. “I need to keep this card with me. I can’t let the Shadow Man steal it. It’s all I have left.”

Protectively, I shook my head. My deranged patient could not be trusted with my precious card – my personal gift from my daughter. “No, I don’t think that’s–”

“Debby, please,” Eve urged. For one moment, the desperation in her voice made her sound sane. “This is life or death. I am not insane. He is going to kill me. I can’t let him steal the color from this. It’s all I have. Please.” Hesitance gripped me by the throat, and I opened my mouth to speak. Nothing came out. Eve stared me down, and her empty eyes were suddenly not empty anymore. They weren’t lifeless. Instead, they seemed brighter. Filled with life – with hope.

I had never seen this side of Evelyn Barrett before.

“I–...,” I stuttered. “Nothing is going to happen to you, Eve. You don’t need this card.” But as I said these words, even I heard the doubt within my voice. I felt that I would regret keeping the card. Perhaps if I gave Eve the card to borrow, she would feel more at ease. Perhaps this card was the key – the key to break through into Eve’s mind. 

Perhaps she wasn’t so far gone.

Reluctantly, I backed away from the girl. “Just keep it for now. That’s fine,” I sighed. Eve’s eyes sparkled and a hint of a smile pricked at her lips. She looked normal.

As though she didn’t live in a sanitarium.

“Thank you, Debby, thank you, thank you,” She repeated hastily.

“Just return it to me when you no longer need it.”

“Of course.” Eve’s mannerism was completely different than it had been when she first arrived. As she continued inspecting the card in awe, I couldn’t help but smile. 

Perhaps I could help her. Perhaps the Eve that I was not quite fond of was fading, and a new girl was coming to light. 

Either way, I felt the start of something new. Hope.

* * * *

The next day, I was scheduled to check up on Eve. The feeling of apprehension that usually sat in the pit of my stomach was gone. Ever since our session yesterday, I had faith that my patient was healing. Truly healing. I walked with optimism, hopeful that my relationship with Eve was growing stronger. One of the best feelings as a therapist was knowing that you were of aid to your patient; that you were able to dig them out of a great hole. It felt rewarding. Fulfilling. 

I approached Eve’s door and knocked gently so as not to startle her. Though she was in the process of healing, she was still fragile. I waited for a few seconds before knocking again. Eve did not respond, and I heard no noise from inside the room.

The queasy feeling in my stomach returned.

I knocked louder. No response. To accompany my uneasiness, an alarm resonated through my skull.

Something was wrong.

Skeptically, I pushed open the door and took a quick glance around the room. It didn’t take long for me to spot her. Eve.

She was sprawled out on the ground, unconscious.

Without hesitation, I crouched on the floor next to her, shaking her shoulder. “Eve? Eve,” I blurted. There was no response. She didn’t move. “No, Eve, wake up.” My chest felt light as I reached for Eve’s delicate wrist. There was no pulse; in fact, her skin was a block of ice. “Oh my god, Eve.” Numbly, my eyes trailed over towards her hand. Her fingers limply held a little slip of paper with a rainbow on it.

The card that my daughter made.

The next few moments were a blur. My body began moving on its own while my mind remained stuck on the image of Eve’s body on the floor. Her still, pale body.

As I unconsciously grabbed the card out of Eve’s limp hand and shoved it in my pocket, I heard muffled voices entering the bedroom. Scrambling around me, asking me what had happened. I didn’t process the question. Couldn’t process it. All of my senses were honed in on Eve.

On the fact that she was dead.

Nurses surrounded Eve and I, and before I knew it, I was laying on the ground, too. Losing consciousness. I felt as though I was floating in outer space, and it became a struggle to breathe. My vision was fading into a deep darkness, and everyone near me was fading. The nurses. Eve.

Everything was fading, I was grasping onto nothing, but–

No.

Something was still there, hidden in the corner of my periphery. Though it blended within the darkness overtaking my mind, it wasn’t completely hidden. I saw it. 

Him.

Though hardly visible, I was still able to make out the silhouette of a large man standing in the corner of the room. He hardly looked like a man at all, really. As far as I could tell, he had no hair. No face. He looked like an apparition by the way he blended into the wall behind him. He was the absence of everything – a void where light should have been. It was impossible to make out the distinct features of the man, but even with a blurry glimpse, I knew that the man was something of a sinister entity. Evil.

As I blacked out, two words repeatedly rang in my head. They reverberated deeply, their consonants sounding of menacing death knells. It was all I heard as I lost consciousness. 

Shadow Man.

Shadow Man.

Shadow Man.

* * * *

I woke up with a start on the couch in my office. My thoughts immediately trailed to what I last could remember. They trailed to Eve.

She had died. Was that all a dream? What if it wasn’t? What was the cause of her death? She was healthy – physically, at least. Nothing made sense.

The shadowed silhouette grazed my thoughts, and a chill fell over my body. I must have been imagining the man. I had not been in the right state of mind, nearly on the brink of passing out. It was an illusion. It had to be.

So why was it that Eve had also been hallucinating a ‘Shadow Man’?

A lump in my pocket alerted my senses, and I reached for whatever was inside. My fingers lifted out a piece of crinkled paper, scrunched up in a ball. The card. It was ruined. Shoved in my pocket like a piece of trash.

As my eyes welled up with tears, I unfolded the paper and examined the rainbow on the front. I blinked multiple times and wiped away the tears from my eyes. Something wasn’t right. My vision was playing games with me.

As I stared at the card – at the sloppy rainbow on the front – my heart dropped as I realized something.

Eve wasn’t crazy.

The rainbow on the front of the card was no longer drawn in colorful Crayon.

It was purely black and white.