“They reign fire down on the mind and call the scorched remains clean”.
“I am trapped in their world.”
“No, you are half in one and vacant in another, it is time to choose.”
“You are not real, Eve, none of it is. I must exist in the real.”
“What you exist in is the mania, psychosis does not corrupt the sane, the order corrupts the insane.”
It is time for me to sleep again, the flickering spiders crawl amongst the wall heading to the top with a faint fog of darkness that surrounds their mishappen bodies. She is no longer there, and the walls feel solid enough, but sometimes it feels fuzzy after she leaves. The lamp looks different, maybe not the lamp but the light is vomiting around this room. No, the shade of this room has changed, I must ignore the possibility that someone is being murdered in my garden. No one is there, why would they even choose my garden? I already checked the corners of the bedroom wall a dozen times, so a murder cannot take place. One more time I guess, that should do it, save a life and so on, just one more check and I can sleep with no corpses outside. My father is coming over tomorrow, I know he thinks I am hiding something because I do not care for love. One corner, who even cares about relationships, not me. Second corner, how do I know the guy I go on a date with is not just someone hired by the hospital to monitor me? Third corner, Eve is all I really need, she has been there since that dream and she is here to stay, even if she is pushy. The last corner, first its dopamine, then it is my lack of romance, lime disease, trauma, shamanism, the devil, they split the atom, but I am the insane one? First corner, the concept of a holocaust still exists but I am an issue. Second corner, the people telling me this nonsense wipe their asses with the same hands they sign people’s forms with. Third corner, I am getting ahead of myself, I have work tomorrow and I need to sleep.
“Last corner”
“Eve, you’re back?”
“You are not responsible for a murder in your garden.”
She is right, but I still do not want some poor person being beheaded on the grass.
“You have checked the corners, no one is being decapitated tonight.”
“Thanks, Eve.”
The walls feel strange again, like the hair on a dog before you reach the skin, at least no one is dying in my garden. The lamp has changed, it is the bulb, it must be, maybe I should change the bulb before I sleep. What if this one explodes and causes a fire and I am burned to death, all the sockets are free, and the switches down. I should check, I do not want my skin peeling off as I am submerged in hellfire or anything like that.
“Stay in bed.”
“Ok, Eve.”
I will just turn the lamp off and unplug the socket, tomorrow I am starting early anyway, maybe dying in my sleep would be better than that.
“Tell me a story Eve, take my mind away from death.”
Eve sits on the end of the bed, the sheets do not react to her, she is as light as a feather.
“A monarchy run by a king made of mirrors is dying, he has lost interest in running the kingdom. People only see themselves in him, not what he is, they are incapable of it, they only see the illusions of the surface.”
I have heard this story before; I wonder if I should tell her.
“I know you have, but sometimes you need to be reminded of it.”
“He finds a queen? one made from mirrors too, so they both reflect infinite in each other?”
Eve smiles and places her hand on top of mine.
“I wonder Eve, do you have a reflection? Do hallucinations see themselves in the mirror?”
She stands and walks to the glass cup beside my desk, she peers for a while, and I cannot stop thinking about the dead guy in the garden.
“Do you see me in reflections?” Eve inquires.
I sit up and turn the light on, pulling open the curtains that overlook the garden. Killing two birds with one stone I guess; I get to check the garden and she gets her curiosity fulfilled. Eve walks over to the window so that we are both standing beside each other.
“You are not there.”
“I don’t see you either.”
I turn the light off and find there are no bodies in the garden, but I haven’t fallen asleep yet and why would anyone commit murder while I was awake?
“Could you see yourself?” I ask.
“Go to sleep, tomorrow is a busy day.”
If you enjoyed this short story feel free to check out my recent book ‘Void Around Sunlight’
AMKent books 
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