The Psychiatrist

The woman in the mirror didn’t move.

I stared at her, frozen. My breath was uneven, my chest rising and falling too fast. She wasn’t supposed to be here. This was a hospital bathroom. I was supposed to be alone.

Slowly, I turned.

She stood just a few feet away, hands clasped in front of her, dressed in a dark gray suit. She looked calm, professional. Like she belonged here. But I knew better.

She shouldn’t be here.

“Lila,” she said gently. “I’m Nina.”

Her voice was warm. Soft, even. Like she was trying to soothe a child.

I didn’t answer. I was still trying to breathe, still trying to make sense of everything. My head ached, my body felt too light, too weak. The nightmare still clung to me, thick and heavy. My pulse was pounding.

Nina took a small step closer, her eyes studying me.

“You’re safe,” she continued. “You’re in a hospital. You survived, Lila.”

I swallowed hard. My throat was dry. My thoughts were slow, like my brain had been wrapped in thick cotton. “Survived what?” My own voice was hoarse.

She tilted her head slightly. “The gas leak.”

The words sent a chill down my spine.

“No,” I whispered. “That’s not what happened.”

Nina didn’t react. She only sighed, like she had expected me to say that.

“You’ve been through something traumatic,” she said. “It’s normal to be confused. But I’m here to help you.”

I shook my head. My hands curled into fists. “It wasn’t a gas leak,” I said. “The submarine—Light—”

Nina raised a hand, as if to stop me.

“Lila,” she said gently, “I know what you think you saw. But it wasn’t real.”

I flinched. “It was real.”

She pointed at my arm.

I looked down.

Blood was smeared across my wrist, leaking from where I had ripped out the IV earlier.

“You’re hurting yourself,” she said. “You don’t even realize it.”

I shook my head again, harder this time. “That’s not—”

“Lila.” Nina’s voice was calm, but firm. “You are deeply contaminated.”

A shudder ran through me.

“That’s not true,” I said.

“It is,” she said. “Your delusions are strong. They feel real to you, I understand that. But they aren’t. You are suffering from a high level of psychological contamination.”

I took a shaky step back. My hands were shaking.

“No,” I said again. “You don’t understand. Light—”

“Isn’t real.”

Her voice was so sure.

I stared at her, my breathing uneven.

“He is real,” I said. “I saw him. I talked to him.”

Nina gave me a small, sad smile. “If he’s real, Lila, then why is it that no one else remembers him?”

I opened my mouth—then stopped.

No one else remembers?

I licked my lips. My throat was dry. “Dr. Graves knows.”

She tilted her head. “Dr. Graves?”

“Yes.” My voice was stronger now. “He was there. He saw everything. He’s lying.”

Nina just watched me. She didn’t look surprised.

Then she said, “Who told you that you and Dr. Graves were the only ones who made it out?”

My stomach twisted.

“What?” I whispered.

There was a knock at the door.

Before I could react, the door opened.

And Mira stepped inside.

My heart stopped.

I felt like the ground had just disappeared beneath my feet.

Mira.

She was supposed to be dead.

She was supposed to be gone.

But she was standing right in front of me.

Her face was pale, thinner than I remembered. Her dark eyes locked onto mine. She looked exhausted. But she was alive.

Alive.

My knees felt weak.

Nina stepped to the side, giving Mira space.

“Lila,” Mira said softly.

Her voice was real. Her presence was real.

I swallowed. “Mira?”

She gave me a small, uncertain nod.

I took a step forward. My legs felt unsteady.

“This—” My voice cracked. “This doesn’t make sense.”

Nina folded her arms. “I told you,” she said. “Your mind is sick, Lila. The things you believe aren’t real.”

I looked at Mira. “You—You were on the submarine.”

Mira hesitated. She glanced at Nina, then back at me. “Yes,” she said finally. “I was.”

The room was spinning.

“You—You saw him.”

Mira didn’t answer right away.

Nina spoke instead. “Mira has been receiving treatment, Lila. She understands what happened now. And she’s here to help you.”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

Mira’s hands clenched at her sides.

“I don’t understand,” I whispered. “How did you—”

“You need help, Lila,” Nina said softly. “Mira got help. Now it’s your turn.”

I felt cold.

Like something was crawling under my skin.

This was wrong.

This was all wrong.

I turned to Mira. Desperate.

“Tell me you remember,” I said. “Tell me you remember him.”

Mira didn’t answer.

And that silence was louder than anything.

The room felt too small.

I was drowning.

“Lila.” Nina’s voice was gentle, but firm. “You have to accept the truth.”

I shook my head. “No. No, this—this isn’t right.”

She sighed. “I understand this is hard for you. But it’s time to let go of these delusions.”

Delusions.

They thought I was crazy.

They wanted me to believe I was crazy.

I looked at Mira again. My chest ached. “Mira, please.”

Mira swallowed. “Lila, I…”

Her voice wavered.

I clung to that hesitation.

But then she took a deep breath and said, “You have to listen to Nina. She’s right.”

It felt like the floor had just dropped out from under me.

No.

No, this wasn’t happening.

I backed away. My pulse was a roar in my ears.

“I need to lie down,” I whispered.

Nina nodded, as if pleased. “That’s a good idea.”

Mira stepped aside, letting me pass.

I walked slowly, my steps unsteady.

My mind was racing.

None of this made sense.

And yet—

And yet, the more I thought about it, the more doubt started creeping in.

What if I really was sick?

What if Light wasn’t real?

I lay down on the hospital bed, my heart pounding.

Nina and Mira stood by the door.

Watching.

Like they were waiting for something.

I closed my eyes.

But I knew I wouldn’t sleep.

Because deep down, beneath all the doubt, beneath all the fear—

I knew the truth.

And so did Light.