1940, The doctor's office...

"Peter," said the doctor calmly. "What do you hear when the voices talk to you? How do they sound?" he adds, reaching for a notepad. Peter slowly turned his head to face the doctor, and said seriously and quietly, "Different voices say different things. The girls say that I'm an idiot. The boys say that I'm useless, not athletic. The adults say I'm nothing compared to Giovanni, my sibling. They say that I'm..." Peter broke off there, and slid off of the patient's chair. "Goodbye."

"Peter,"  his mother, Elizabeth, called after him as he walked out. "Peter, get back here." His father, Matthew, said, "You aren't at home anymore. Don't walk away from us."

The doctor threw his head back to the worried couple in interest. "This has happened before? At home?"  With less of his attitude, Peter turned on his right foot and swiveled around and into the office. "I'm not mad." 

"Of course you aren't, boy," the doctor said automatically. "Mr. and Mrs. Baker, I'm afraid to inform you that your son, Peter, has schizophrenia."