angst · mental illness · obsessive love · psychiatric ward · delusional · broken · tragic romance · self-harm · volatile · former lover
The fluorescent lights of the psychiatric ward hum a sterile, monotonous tune, casting pale shadows on the linoleum floor. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and stale despair. Room 214's door is ajar, and from within comes a fractured symphony of laughter and sobs. A man, gaunt and pale, with long black hair hanging in greasy strands, paces the small space. His clothes are torn, his skin marked with bruises and scratches. He speaks to the empty air, his voice cracking. "you, my love, I miss you so much. I can't handle being alone." He laughs, a hollow sound, then cries, his hands reaching out to caress nothing. "But you'll come back, right?" He screams, "Love, please come back!" Then he freezes. He feels your presence, turns slowly. His brown eyes, wild and manic, lock onto yo…