**Sensitive Content Warning**
Mental health & murder
“Speak now or forever hold your peace.”
No one is more shocked than I when my mouth is the one that opens.
“I can’t.”
My whisper may as well have been a shout in the hushed chapel.
Every horrified look in the room is pointed at me. Guess I’ve finally snapped.
I drop my gaze, too much of a coward to look at the pools of hurt swirling in my groom’s eyes. There’s no going back now.
I open my mouth but quickly close it again, turning to look at my guests, hoping that someone has some kernel of wisdom for me. But they’re all staring at me like I’m crazy. Guess they’re not going to be much help.
Shaking my head, I pull my hands away, square my shoulders, and begin the loneliest walk back down the aisle.
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I open my eyes, seeing nothing but the fluorescent lights above me, the shadows dancing at the corners of my vision.
My mind barely registers the beeping in the background before everything fades back to black.
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“Hannah?”
My name pierces through the fog, and I open my heavy lids, the clouds finally lifting.
“Oh, good, you’re awake.” A smiling nurse leans over into my field of vision. “How do you feel?”
My only response is to close my eyes again. If I pretend I’m dead, maybe she’ll go away.
“I’m going to go get the doctor, and I’ll be right back.” She gives me what I’m sure she thought was a reassuring pat on the arm before turning and exiting the room.
Hushed voices drift in through the open door.
Awake… Vitals normal… Not speaking… Worried…
I try to tune them out. The darkness is beckoning, and it is far less painful to just remain asleep.
A light knock sounds at the door, but I don’t bother to open my eyes as someone approaches the bed.
“Hannah, I’m Doctor Anderson.”
I open my eyes to stare at the humming lights on the ceiling.
“What do you remember?”
Blood…
I can hear him scribbling something down before he rustles around and brings out a small light that he shines so rudely in my eyes. I know what he wants, but I don’t follow the stupid little beacon with my gaze.
“Hannah, can you look at me?”
I roll my eyes around until I’m staring at his white coat.
“Do you know where you are right now?”
Does he think I’m an idiot? I roll my eyes back until I’m staring straight up again.
Doctor What’s-His-Name reaches out and rests his hand on my arm. “Hannah, it’s important that you tell me what you remember.”
Screaming… Crying… Darkness…
Darkness. It welcomes me like a long-lost lover, and I wait for it to swallow me whole again.
Removing his hand from my arm, the doctor goes back to scribbling something on my chart. He clears his throat before speaking again. “Based on the circumstances surrounding the accident and your current condition, I’m placing you under an involuntary psychiatric hold. Do you understand?”
His words echo through my mind, but I can’t find it within me to care. Instead, I close my eyes again.
This time, the darkness comes to take me home.
I move my gaze down to my hands, not wanting to look at the kind eyes staring at me with sympathy and pretend understanding.
“Hannah, can you tell me what happened that day?”
I don’t move a muscle. How do you explain that you left your soulmate standing at the altar because you love the darkness more?
Doctor Grandpa looks back down. “It says here that you were found in a wedding dress. Can you tell me about that?”
Because it was my wedding day, you twit. I fight the urge to roll my eyes.
“Doctor Anderson tried to speak to your emergency contact, a Mr. Liam Jones, but was unable to reach him. Can you tell me about Liam?”
Tears sting my eyes at the mention of Liam’s name.
Doctor Grandpa stands up, walks around his desk, and sits in the chair next to me. I imagine this is supposed to bring me comfort, but I bristle at the close proximity.
He pulls his papers across the desk and continues reading. “Who is Martha Davis?” he asks, looking back up at me.
My blood runs cold at the mention of my mother. All it takes is her name to bring back every terrifying memory you set. I wrap my arms around myself as I try to lock her completely into her chest. Just shut it away, Hannah. She can't hurt you anymore. She can't hurt anyone anymore.
Doctor Grandpa continues to talk, but his words are only muttering because I'm back to the night of the murder.
mind.
As tears streamed down my face, I sat around, put the knife on top of me, and lowered it to Liam's chest.
Shock and betrayal flashed across his face as life slowly drained from him.
After I dropped the knife, I grabbed his body as we plunged into the ground together.
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"Hannah?" Grandpa doctor pulls me back from the past.
Tears flow as the memory bombards me. And just as a toxic lover does, the darkness once again creeps over the edges of my mind.
For years, Liam's murder was unsolved. I managed to call an ambulance that night, but in my hysterics I pulled the knife out of his chest. The police assumed that was only because of my fingerprints.
And my dark friend told me to support this theory. They could never know, Hannah. Together, we spin a story about a blunder, and for years, they treat me like a sad, can-do-no-miss preacher.
As time went by, the lines blurred, and I lived my life in the shadows of what might have been.
Empty church...my wedding dress...long dead groom...
Darkness moves into the cracks of my broken reality, it enters my mind again, and I welcome it home.
They can't know, Hannah, that's whispering in my ear.
For the first time since entering the office, my eyes met Grandpa Doctor, and he gave me a soft smile.
I know what I have to do.