Gaining her wings, p.1
Gaining Her Wings, page 1
Gaining Her Wings
Realm of Insanity, Volume 1
Brianá Weilert
Published by Brianá Weilert, 2024.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
GAINING HER WINGS
First edition. April 10, 2024.
Copyright © 2024 Brianá Weilert.
ISBN: 979-8224246397
Written by Brianá Weilert.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One: A Not-So-Normal Day
Chapter Two: Cutting to the Chase
Chapter Three: Medical Mysteries
Chapter Four: Dreamwalking 101
Chapter Five: Thoughts of the Future
Chapter Six: The End of the Familiar
Chapter Seven: Desperate Flight
Chapter Eight: Face-Off
Chapter Nine: The Beginning of the World
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About the Author
To Dad, G, Paul, and the Weilert family: Thanks for encouraging me all these years.To Teren: Your clownish antics have literally kept me going for almost a decade. Love you <3
Chapter One: A Not-So-Normal Day
The year is 2022 and the world is at peace. Following the Second World War, humanity came together to form the United Nations in hopes of fostering cooperation and diplomacy over bloodshed and conquest. The fact that World War II ended with Hiroshima vanishing in the detonation of the first (and so far, only) nuclear attack probably had something to do with that.
Of course, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows on Earth even without humanity trying to kill each other over lines on a map. There’s still social issues, like discrimination, economic flux, and environmental damages; the lack of war just means we have more time and resources to focus on those things. And, if you look even deeper, there’s all the individual issues we face on a day-to-day basis.
Which is where I figure into things.
My name is Irene Williams, a black college student with an interest in chemistry and twenty-two years of life under my belt. At a glance, the only noteworthy thing about me is that I’m the spitting image of my mom; dark brown skin, emerald green eyes, and dark red hair that I keep loose and at mid-back length. (I could change my ‘do to reduce the resemblance, but I like the feel of this style.) Aside from chemistry, I like casual fashion – my favorite outfit being a red blouse with blue jeans – kittens, and making probably-witty jabs at acts of stupidity (including and especially my own).
More pertinently, however, I’m not an easy sleeper; more often than not, I wake up screaming from vivid nightmares in the dead of night. Which explains why, at this exact moment, I am currently fighting a losing battle against the urge to fall asleep in my World History class.
...And it’s also the day of my Chemistry finals. Fuck me running, am I right?
“Ms. Williams, since you clearly seem so interested in this discussion, why don’t you answer?” I immediately snapped to attention at Professor Oliver’s words, managing to stifle the yawn threatening to come out.
“I missed the question. What?” I winced as my classmates snickered under their breath. The professor sighed.
“I asked about the Ever Given and its effect on the world economy.”
“Um...didn’t it cost the world something like $9.6 billion in lost time, and another $5 million in electronics from being sunk because nothing could free it from the Suez Canal?” I wasn’t completely certain about the costs; I rarely watched the news. I only knew about the Ever Given incident from jokes made about it by my classmates.
Apparently, it was good enough, because Professor Oliver crossed her arms and nodded. “Correct. You do pay attention, Irene. Now then, who else wan— yes, Jacob?” She glanced at the raised hand belonging to a boy sitting next to me.
“My grandfather is one of the last living soldiers from WWII and he hates the fact that we’ve become such infants about war. So what if something like 85% of the world is afflicted with some sort of mental illness — you should be able to give someone with anxiety a gun!”
Oh, for fuck’s sake, not again. I never did understand why Jacob wanted a war so much. What, is visiting a non-wartorn country too boring for you, Jake? To me, asking for war was like willingly drinking the neighborhood pool water; just... why?
“And while we’re at it, what about the politicians calling for war!? Every single one ends up being mentally regressed to toddlers, even on live TV!” Jacob slammed one palm on the desk in front of him as he stood up. “It’s a conspiracy, I tell you! Someone is lobotomizing the competition and I can prov—”
It was as if a switch had been flipped; Jacob suddenly fell to his knees, eyes vacant and drool pouring from one side of his mouth. Without missing a beat, Professor Oliver pressed a button under her desk; seconds later, a couple of men came in, grabbed the twitching guy, and took him out of the classroom.
“Yet another one...” The Professor muttered, before turning back to us. "Class is dismissed. Remember to check your syllabus for when your essays are due!” As we all exited the classroom, I pulled out my phone to check the time. Two hours until my Advanced Chemistry finals. Swearing under my breath, I dialed up my dear brother.
“Dr. Williams, how may I...” A sigh, followed by, “Sorry, Irene. Been fielding a lot of calls today.”
“Not surprising. Hey Isaac, you got something to help me wake up? Got my Chemistry finals coming up and—”
“You want me to give you drugs to help you wake up.” I could tell Isaac was rubbing his temples with his free hand. “Sis, two things about that request. Actually, three. One, why in God’s name would I prescribe a stimulant over the phone? Two, even if I could — and I won’t — Mom would kill us both for the stunt. And finally...why won’t you just drink some coffee like every other college student?”
So much for that request. “Because other college students don’t have the Medical Director of Saint Anthony Hospital as their brother.” As I spoke, I headed to the bus to head home for a little bit. While I was old enough to drive — and had my license — Mom and Isaac basically banned me after I nearly crashed Isaac’s Lexus because of untimely hallucinations.
Not my proudest moment, I know.
“Irene, no. I will not indulge this request, end of discussion. You’ll just have to deal with the consequences of your poor judgment.”
“Not my fault I had a night— hey!” He hung up before I could finish. I groaned as I stared at my phone in disbelief. Now what the hell do I do?
The answer came with a hiss. Sssssleep... and never wake up.
“Oh, not you again.” I muttered under my breath as I connected my wireless earbuds to my phone to listen to some music and drown out that fiendish voice in my head. I started hearing him when I was twelve, just over a decade ago.
You really think that can drown me out? I saw a shadowy figure with golden, slitted pupils in the glass across from me, which caused me to momentarily pale.
Maybe, but if I cannot drown you out, I know the perfect way to shut you up. I heard mocking laughter in my mind just before my music kicked on.
* * *
I was fortunate that my bus stop was only a house away from mine. And even more fortunate that Isaac or Mom weren’t home; the last thing that I needed was them discovering one of my...darker hobbies.
After an accident in Lab involving a broken beaker, I learned that the voices in my head were quieted by me cutting myself. It worked so well that I often did the deed just to help me focus, since the hallucination meds prescribed to me by a total quack of a doctor (who I mentally dubbed “Anti-Isaac”) did jack shit.
Once I went upstairs to my room, I locked the door, sat in my favorite chair, and pulled out my bag of knives from a hidden alcove in my closet. If you’re wondering how a girl with schizoaffective disorder gets to keep knives in her closet, it’s because I once promised Isaac and Mom that I would only use them to protect myself.
...It’s not technically a lie, either. I was protecting myself from doing anything rash, so it was okay, right?
I pulled out a knife from my bag and, after a quick test to make sure it was razor sharp, ran it down my arm, parallel to my veins. Immediately seeing a trickle of blood begin to well up caused me to let out a sigh of sweet release at the sound of silence in my mind.
“Ha!” I whisper-laughed as I ran the knife down my arm again. “Told you that I knew how to shut you—”
“Huh, I thought Irene would be home by now. Unless she’s already asleep.” I didn’t hear the front door open, so Isaac’s voice took me by complete surprise. The sudden start made the knife go deeper than I’d planned, hitting the lower half of my vein.
“Fuck!” I swore loudly as pain ran through my arm, causing me to drop the bloody knife on the carpet. I heard Isaac practically flying up the stairs and I held my arm to my chest, only noticing belatedly that I was soaking my red blouse with blood. Deciding to take a chewing out over bleeding out, I gently moved towards my bedroom door and unlocked it moments before Isaac threw it open and saw the sight. He was silently taking it in when I muttered, “So much for my finals.”
“Irene, your finals are about to be the least of your worries.”
Chapter Two: Cutting to the Chase
If only you had been jussssst a bit quicker, little girl.
“Shut it, fiend.” I grumbled under m
“Do I even wanna know, Irene? Or are you just gonna continue to sulk?”
“I wasn’t talking to you, Isaac.” I snarled, refusing to meet his eyes.
“For God’s sake, Irene, how long have you been hiding this?! And have you been taking your medication for these hallucinations?” He kept his eyes on the road somehow, but even so, I could feel the look of frustration and anger.
“Those things have never worked. I finally got to the point where I threw them away as soon as I got them.” I admitted.
We made it to the hospital and he parked nearest the emergency room, but didn’t open his door immediately. I opened mine to get out, but stopped when his voice went quiet.
“So why not tell me or Mom?” I let out a bitter laugh at that.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you two are sooooooo busy with your own fucking jobs that, once a-fucking-gain, I get ignored!” I slammed my door shut, not caring at that point how hard it was, and turned to glare at my older brother. “How many times have you two missed my birthdays? Or caused me to miss my chance to make friends by taking me to parties? Or just ignored my cries and pleas to be loved for once in my fucking life in favor of working just one more fucking hour at this hospital?!”
Isaac was still silent when I paused to take a breath, which I took as a sign to continue ranting. “Hell, you two are always saying how it’s obvious Grandmother Alita hates me, but at least she’s honest about it. You two hide behind your work in an attempt to disguise how much of a godsdamn burden I a— hey!” I was caught off-guard by Isaac pulling me into a hug.
“I wish I could say that I had no idea how bad off you were, but I’d be lying to both you and myself. I can’t speak for Mom, but I am sorry that I chose work over making sure you were okay, sis.”
I almost continued my tirade, but instead begrudgingly chose to return the hug. After a minute of unnerving silence, he broke off the hug and opened his door. “Now come on. I’m sure your arm is falling asleep, right?”
Now that he mentioned it, I did feel a bit woozy from blood loss and leaned against my door. “I...might need a wheelchair, actually.”
_______________________________________________
I had to admit that there were some perks to having the Medical Director of the local hospital as your sibling, because Isaac got me inside and in a room in minutes.
Of course, it also ‘helped’ that I nearly died once the tourniquet was undone, because what I thought was a mere nick turned out to be slightly deeper. Amazingly, the docs managed to stanch the bleeding, but I was told to stay in the ICU for the next three days for evaluation.
The first tests they ran on me proved that something was odd...but not in the way anyone expected. Blood work showed that my iron levels were off the charts, and my temperature was abnormally high, as if I had a fever...but despite that, I felt perfectly fine once the lightheadedness passed.
Still, while I wanted to go home, the worst was yet to come — shortly after checking me in and making sure I wasn’t about to pass out from blood loss, Isaac told Mom about the incident. It wasn’t long before I could feel her presence darkening the room; if looks could kill, the glare directed at me would have definitely reduced me to a vaguely person-shaped smear on the bed.
“Irene Belle Williams, the fuck were you thinking?!” I wanted to hide under the hospital bed, but instead forced myself to look her in the eyes. We really did look alike, even with the age gap; were it not for Mom’s high ponytail, I’d think I was being berated by my own reflection. “We let you have those knives to protect yourself, but instead you try to slice your arms open!”
“No. I was just relieving the built-up pressure in my mind. It’s the only way to shut up the voices in my hea—”
Mom’s anger evaporated in an instant, replaced by utter shock. “Wait, you hear voices?”
“Yeah, since I was twelve.”
Her expression softened significantly as she sat in the chair next to my bed to ruffle my hair, which caused me to wince in annoyance. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I thought you had been spared my problem.”
I blinked in confusion. “What, you hear voices too?”
“Yes. And Nathan tossed out my pills when he found out.” She sighed. “You two are the only good things out of that farce of a relationship. But yes, nowadays I can just take a walk through my dream to deal with my voices.”
I knew she was trying to be sympathetic, and it was leagues better than being yelled at...but that last bit hit a very sensitive nerve of mine. I had never had a single dream that wasn’t a nightmare; what so many others took for granted was a luxury I had never known. Why in the hell did Mom have to unwittingly taunt me with the fact that she and my brother could dream and I couldn’t?!
It took everything in me not to snap at that moment. Instead, I grumbled under my breath, “Lucky you.”
She hugged me for a moment before breaking it off and standing up, telling me, “I’m taking away your knives, Irene, for your safety. I do not want to bury my children if I can help it.”
I could only sigh in defeat. “Fucking hell, this cannot get any worse.”
Chapter Three: Medical Mysteries
It was the second day in the ICU when I got the news that I was headed to their Behavioral Health Unit once my wrist healed up. At first, I tried to argue that I was fine and that I wanted to go home... and then the docs told me why I was headed there.
“Director Williams’s orders. Said you were suicidal and that’s why you cut your wrist.”
Oh, I am gonna fucking kill that bastard, I swear to everything on this planet. I kept my thoughts to myself; the last thing I needed was to reveal that I was feeling very, very homicidal because of the news.
“And because it’s his word versus mine, he wins, right?” I snarked back at the doctor as the nurse undid my bandages to check on my wrist.
“Ma’am, if I may be perfectly honest, you could’ve died from how deep that cut was. If you weren’t suicidal, then you were playing a very dangerous and quite frankly stupid gam— what the?!” To both our surprise, my wrist was perfectly healed; only a thin discolored line on my brown skin showed that I had even cut myself. “That’s...that’s a miracle!”
“Huh.” I traced the scar with a finger, finding that it didn’t even sting to touch. That was...new. Even when I didn’t screw up a cutting session, it took a few days for the cuts to look this good, and those were just scratches compared to the wound that sent me here.
“W-well, we’ll undo the IV and get you upstairs to your room in the ward. Sounds good?” The nurse was clearly still reeling from the sight of my healed wrist, so I decided to be a good little patient and limit my displeasure to a roll of my eyes and a laconic snark.
“Peachy.”
______________________________________________
They wheeled me upstairs — I was still too mad about the whole debacle to argue that I could just walk with them instead of being carted around — to the ward and into the office of a female psychiatrist. She was typing something up on the computer, her fingers flying across the keyboard with ease when she looked up at me.
“Good afternoon, Miss Williams.” Once the doctor left and shut the door behind him, the psychiatrist gave me a grin, “Name’s Lexi. Dr. Lexi White, but some of the people here call me ‘Grizzly’ because of my love for the big fluffy bears.” I tried to keep up my frown, but found myself cracking a smile at this woman’s energy. “So, heard you took a knife to your wrist to end it all. Wanna talk about it?”
And just like that, the smile faded and with it came back my anger. “I was not trying to kill myself, just a little self-harm to deal with the voices in my head.”
“Still, you could’ve easily sliced the artery on your wrist. Your brother is clearly very concerned about you.” I rolled my eyes.
“A fucked up way of showing it, if you ask me. Committing me involuntarily? Really, Isaac?!” I snapped. She looked at something on her computer, then looked back at me.
