"A sick thought can devour the body's flesh more than fever or consumption."

— Guy de Maupassant

/ / e v e l y n / / 

Both hands are placed on my forehead as I stand outside of Louis' room. I take a step forward, and then take a step back. Should I enter? Or should I turn around and act like I was never here?

Tempting.

Louis' file is tucked neatly in my purse still and I suck on a peppermint as I try to get rid of the alcohol smell that's on my breath. My hand reaches for the doorknob, but I soon yank it back. There are so many decisions to make but how will I know if I make the right one? My hands fall to my sides and I let out a sigh. This is a lot harder than I thought. Why am I suddenly so afraid? I have no reason to be.

Niall and I got back to the institute about an hour ago. I've been doing this for about an hour and I still don't know what to do. Marcel's been watching my every move and he hasn't said anything yet. I don't expect him to say anything. After what happened last time, I'm kind of afraid to go in there. If I want to help Louis, I have to tell him something he wants to hear to gain his trust. I unlock the door with my card and enter the room. Just as I had done last time, I drop my purse by the door and walk deeper into the room.

Louis' no longer strapped to the bed. I run my fingers along the bed until I come across the blood stains. There are four blood stains on one side of the bed and there are four more on the other side of the bed. How hard was he scratching the bed? I scratch the bed for myself and tilt my head to the side. Who claws at a mattress until their fingers bleed? I turn around and my heart skips a beat. There's a chair in the corner of the room and Louis is sitting in it.

"Mr. Tomli—Louis?"

I place my hands behind my back and begin to walk toward the chair. He moves once and that's to scratch his arm. I stop when I see his fingers. They're covered with blood and there's blood underneath his fingernails. I get a better look at his arm and I notice he's scratching it too hard...hard enough to cut his skin. He doesn't even look bothered by it and this causes my flesh to crawl.

"Louis, what are you doing?"

I look at his lips and notice he's doing the whispering thing again. I lean in and try my best to listen.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" I ask as I look into his wide eyes.

It's like he's looking at me, but he isn't at the same time. I wave my hand in front of his face but he doesn't even blink. I snap and he still doesn't show me any attention. He keeps clawing at his skin and the cuts are getting worse.

"Oh, God. I'm going to go get something for those cuts."

For a second, it looks like he's actually looking at me but the look goes away as quickly as it comes. His nails dig deeper into his skin and I want to grab his hand and make him stop.

This isn't right.

He blinks and I almost put my hand on his knee. I think twice about it and don't do so. "I'll be right back, Louis." He continues to stare ahead as I hurry out of the room. I run my fingers through my oily hair as I walk down the hall. Marcel looks me up and down. "I need some bandages."

"What for?"

"They're for Louis," I say and he crosses his arms across his chest. "His hands are injured and no one has bandaged them."

"We have nurses for that."

"Where are they, then?" I ask. "They're probably scared to be in there with him and I think someone else should bandage him up."

"Are you suggesting yourself, Miss Foster?"

"Am I not making it obvious enough? Must I rephrase it to make it clear enough for you?"

Sighing, he gives me a key to the equipment room and I nod as my way of thanking him. The equipment room's right by the elevator and when I enter, I don't know where to look first. I've never been in here before and Dr. Sanchez has never mentioned what kind of stuff was in here. The door shuts behind me and I let out a squeal. My hand reaches for the doorknob and I open it back up. Watching, the door automatically closes back and I'm left in the darkness again.

"This is perfect."

I'm in the dark.

And I'm talking to myself.

Lovely.

I reach for the light switch and turn the light on. I continue on with my search for any first aid kit but instead, I find nothing but batteries and light bulbs. Are there even first aid kits in here? I'm beginning to have my doubts. I walk deeper into the room until I find multiple shelves in the back. There are white boxes on the top shelf and when I approach it, I realize I'm too short to even touch the shelf. I look around for a step stool of some kind but there aren't any around.

Short people matter, too.

I jump with all of my might but my hand just cannot touch the shelf. My hands grab onto the sides of the shelf and I begin to climb. I let go of one side of the shelf and reach for one of the white boxes on the top shelf. The words 'FIRST AID KIT' are printed across the white box in bright red letters. They shouldn't be so high up. If it is difficult for me, it'll be difficult for someone else. Stepping down from the shelf, I turn to leave the equipment room.

Marcel is still standing there and he nods at me, "You find the bandages?"

I show him the kit, "I found this."

"Just make sure to bring everything back when you leave the room. We don't want Louis harming himself, do we?"

"Of course not," I smile as I walk back down the hall to Louis' room.

"Good," he says and I stop in front of the familiar white door.

I swipe my card and when the light changes from red to green, I open the door and walk inside. Louis' still sitting on the chair but he's no longer scratching himself. His arms dangle at his sides and his head is down as if he is looking at his thighs. I take this opportunity to check and see what's inside of the first aid kit. There are band-aids, bandages, two rolls of brown medical tape and little alcohol wipes that are in the shape of squares.

I walk across the room with the kit still open, "Louis, I'm back to clean the wounds on your arm. I hope that's all right with you."

He lifts his head up but I don't stop walking. I approach the front of the chair and kneel down in front of him. I pull out one of the wipes and hesitate before grabbing his injured arm. He flinches when I do grab his arm but he doesn't pull back. My eyes slowly meet his and he looks terrified. I feel bad for him but I don't show him I feel this way. I only smile at him and clear my throat, looking back down at his arm.

"This might sting a little bit."

His eyes widen when I begin to wipe the blood off of his arm. I look up at him as I clean his arm and he's no longer looking at me. He's looking at the wall.

I am quick to start a new conversation, "Your mother seems like a nice person." Louis tries to pull his arm back again but I keep wiping. "Dr. Horan and I went to go visit her earlier today. Her house is small, but it's beautiful. Have you ever been to it?"

I look at him and he looks even more horrified. His facial hair makes his expression look two times worse. Did he not expect me to go to his mother's house? I look back down at his arm and go back to wiping.

"Why?" I hear him whisper, catching me completely by surprise.

My voice is weaker than I want it to be, "You didn't really give me a choice, Louis. You weren't talking to me but your mother did. She was very helpful even though she threw anointing oil on me. Wanna see?"

I show him my hair but I have a feeling he isn't even looking. I'm sure he can smell the oil, though. I sit the wipe to the side and reach for the bandages. Louis could easily rip off the band-aids and I don't want that to happen. Slowly, I begin to wrap the bandage on his arm and he leans his head back, looking up at the ceiling.

"You know, we're alike in some ways," I say and don't get a response. "We're both suffering from something mentally."

"I'm not mental!" he snaps and his eyes are wide, his bottom lip trembling.

I nod, "You think you're not mental. That isn't what the others think."

I finish wrapping the bandage and I grab a roll of tape, ripping a long piece off with my teeth. I stick it to the bandage to make sure it doesn't come loose. I stand up and close the first aid kit. Louis lets his arm dangle at his side again and he looks straight ahead at the wall.

"I'm just trying to help you, Louis. If you help me help you, you can hurry up and get out of here. Aren't you tired of taking pills?" He only blinks. "Aren't you tired of nurses sedating you?"

He brings his hands up to his face and he begins to shake his head, "No, no, no, no."

I bend over to where my face is inches away from Louis', "No to what? You like taking your pills, Louis? I know you don't like the nurses sedating you." He continues to shake his head. "Do you like it?"

His hands drop from his face and his face twists with anger, "I'm safe here!"

I stand up straight, "You're...safe here?" He turns his head away from me. "You constantly hurt yourself and you say you're safe here."

"It's not me!" he shrieks.

I throw my arms in the air out of frustration, "Then who is it? It can't possibly be Harry because he doesn't exist!"

"Shut up!" he yells.

"Excuse me?" I'm boiling.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

"I am here to help you and you won't let me. If you don't cooperate by next week, you're out of here! You'll be sent to another mental institute and I won't be able to help you anymore. Your mother told me about Harry. He was your imaginary friend and there's nothing you can do or say that'll make me believe that he's real."

"He does exist!" Louis cries out and his face is already turning red.

"He doesn't," I say. I now know pushing him will make him respond to me. "Harry doesn't exist and I think you know that."

Louis grinds his teeth together and holds his head back. His eyes are squinted shut and his veins pop through his neck. He looks back at me and yells in a dark tone, "Don't say his name!" He throws his head back and begins to tug at his hair. His mouth opens and it looks like he's struggling to breathe.

What have I done?

His hands move to his chest as he falls out of the chair. He lands on his side and rolls over to be on his back. My eyes widen when he lets out a deranged scream. His hands fall from his chest and they are placed firmly on the floor. Before I know it, he's arching his back upward and turns his head to look at me. My eyes are wide with horror as he lets out another scream. This one's much louder and raw.

"I'm going to go get some help!" I yell and hurry out of the room for the second time today. When I exit the room, I place a hand to my chest as I run down the hall toward Marcel. He sees me running toward him and he automatically pulls out his tasor.

"What's wrong?" he asks when I approach him.

I bend over, placing one hand on my knee and pointing down the hallway with my other, "Louis."

He doesn't need me to say another word because he's already running down the hall. I stand up straight and turn around. Should I go back or should I go grab a nurse to sedate Louis? My feet make the decision for me as I jog down the hall to Louis' room.

I enter the room to find Marcel leaning over Louis' motionless body. As I get closer, I notice he's still laying down on his back but his eyes are closed. His face is no longer red but his neck still is. Marcel looks over his shoulder at me, "What the hell happened in here?"

"I...I don't know," I murmur. "I was questioning him and he started screaming and holding his chest." My eyes wander back to Louis. Oh, God. "Is he breathing?"

"He's breathing, all right," he says and looks at the door. "I'm going to have to take him down to one of the rooms on the third floor so the nurses can check him out."

My eyebrows rise, "I thought there are only bedrooms on the third floor."

"Of course not," he laughs. "Patients usually get their health checked on the third floor. I'd better hurry and get him down there. Press the panic button for me?" I don't move. This'll be the second time that I've pressed it. What will Dr. Sanchez think? She'll think I cannot handle Louis and she'll take him away from me. I cannot let that happen. "Dr. Foster? Are you going to press the panic button for me?" I still don't move from my spot. "I'll just do it myself, then."

"Sorry," I nearly whisper as he hits the red button with his fist. I glance down at Louis to see his chest rise and fall several times. The good thing is he's still alive. Marcel walks back and picks Louis up. I'm surprised Louis has not woken up, yet. Marcel lays Louis down on his bed and begins to strap him in.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," he mutters as he begins to wheel Louis out of the room. "You were nervous. It's understandable." That's where he's wrong. I was nowhere near being nervous because of the situation.

I was terrified.

Hell, I still am and as I watch Marcel push Louis out of the room, the terror within me only rises. I lean against the wall for support because I feel like I might fall over. Closing my eyes, I pinch the bridge of my nose. I made this happen. It's my fault Louis' being taken to the third floor. I mentioned Harry when I knew what the results would be. Except this time, Louis wasn't strapped to his bed. He was on a chair and he fell off of it. How much pain was he in? To me, he looked like he couldn't even breathe.

He told me he's safe here. How is that even possible? Every time I turn around, something bad is happening to him. He somehow managed to claw at his mattress until his fingers bled. Earlier, he scratched on his arm until the marks showed. What's going to happen next? Removing my hand from my nose, I open my eyes and walk out of the room after I grab my purse. The hallway is empty and I walk down it with my arms wrapped around myself.

"Evelyn?"

I keep walking.

"Evelyn, is that you?"

I look over my shoulder to see Rebekah shutting one of the room doors. She waves at me and I slowly wave back. I ask when she gets closer, "What are you doing up here?"

We begin to walk together and she runs her fingers through her hair, "I was talking to my patient. She's getting better."

"I had no idea your patient stays on this floor."

She shrugs, "She'll be moving down to the next floor next week. How's Louis? Is he making any progress?"

I shake my head, "Marcel just took him down to the third floor."

"Oh, so he's making improvement?"

"He...passed out."

Rebekah stops and grabs my arm, pulling me to a stop. "He what?"

I yank my arm out of her grip, "He fainted."

"How?" she asks, reaching for my arm again. I pull my arm back before she has the chance to wrap her hand around it again. I don't like it when people grab onto me and make me stop what I'm trying to do. In this case, I'm trying to get off of this floor. "Evelyn, how did he faint?"

"I was questioning him and he just...passed out." I say, not giving out the whole truth.

Who does she think she is? I barely know her and I would never tell her all of my business. She needs to worry about her patient and I need to worry about mine. Rebekah smiles and realizes that we are right in front of the elevator.

She presses the down button and I shake my head, "I'm going to take the stairs."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," I murmur and place a lock of hair behind my ear. "I just don't want to wait."

"Okay," she says and I hurry to get away from her.

I place both of my hands on my forehead when I start going down the stairs. I can still hear Louis screaming in my mind and I cannot get it out. I want to take another one of my pills but I know I cannot take my next one until tonight. I stop walking down the stairs and I start jogging. I need to know what's going on with Louis and while I was with Rebekah, I was wasting precious time.

Opening the door to the third floor, I hit something and hear a groan. I step out from behind the door to see Niall on the floor. He's holding onto his nose and that's when I see the blood.

"Oh, my gosh. Niall, I'm so sorry!"

He shakes his head and looks at me, "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"Really? Because I was just—"

He manages to stand up, "Louis woke up, Evelyn. He found the window."

"What?"

"He found the window!"

"What are you saying?"

"He's in tears and he's...talking to himself," he explains. "I think he's going to jump."