I no longer saw the world the way I had before entering the clinic.
The hallway now felt wide—like the inside of a massive serpent's stomach, stretched and twisted in a nauseating spiral.
The smell of disinfectant overpowered the sharp scent of mint that had clung to my mind since the previous night.
It was as if the place were trying to cleanse me by force.
I glanced at the prescription in my hand.
It was written in English—
and yet, it wasn't.
The handwriting looked like talismans and cryptic symbols.
I couldn't read it. I couldn't understand it.
But… at least I was no longer alone.
I looked at the black spot resting on the white tiles of the hallway floor.
An ugly thing disturbing the purity of the place.
An ugly thing the size of an adult's head.
How can no one see this thing?
I looked around at the people seated in the waiting area.
Nothing seemed strange.
Nothing drew their attention.
My nails dug into my palm—
and into my heart.
This is far too real to be a hallucination.
I will prove to everyone… I am not—
With a sudden movement and a swift step, I grabbed the fuzzy ball.
I wanted to throw it at everyone present.
I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs that this wasn't an illusion—this was real.
But I couldn't.
The moment my hands touched it—
a surge ran through my body, like electricity starting from my palms.
It was mixed with a disgusting sensation—dense hair without bottom or end.
As if my hand were sinking into quicksand.
But instead of sand, it was a pool of tangled hair.
The ball slipped from my hand and fell back onto the floor where it had been.
As for me, the surge of electricity turned into a brutal headache splitting my skull.
Madness! None of this is real?
The people around me were startled by the sudden movement—
but their eyes weren't fixed on a strange black object beside me on the floor.
They were fixed on me.
I was the strange thing.
The door opened behind me.
I heard footsteps.
My parents returned, wearing expressions no different from those of the onlookers.
"Let's go," they said shortly.
...
Before returning home, we stopped at a pharmacy to decipher the talismans and symbols written on the prescription.
Throughout the ride, none of us spoke.
Silence was our fourth companion—
or fifth, in my case.
Before I even knew about my "condition," the ball had appeared only twice in four days.
Now, after learning the "truth" of my madness—
it accompanied me everywhere.
I wanted to run.
I wanted to go back to how I used to be.
Like everyone else.
My hand moved automatically, trying to spin something that wasn't there.
It was an old habit.
Since childhood, whenever I felt frustration or fear, I would spin my fidget spinner.
But everything that had happened had made me forget it.
If spinning it doesn't calm me… then the pills must.
I grabbed a water bottle from the car, poured three tablets of each type into my palm, and swallowed them—along with the bitterness lodged in my heart.
I closed my eyes.
I tried to forget reality.
Without realizing it, I fell asleep in my seat.
I dreamed that my life had returned to how it was three years ago.
But unfortunately, it was nothing more than a dream.
We arrived home.
But this time, I felt no joy in returning.
Only suffocation.
I rubbed my neck lightly and entered my room without exchanging a single word with my family.
And I did not see a single strand from the cursed ball.
I closed my bedroom door.
And finally, I had the chance to be alone.
…And cry.
I don't know how long I cried.
An hour? Two?
The tightness in my throat did not ease even a little.
As I stared at the ceiling, one thought occupied my mind:
Why hasn't the mint scent disappeared from my room?
It had become unbearable.
But why did I feel like I had forgotten something?
Something nagged at my mind—
other than searching for my spinner.
But I couldn't remember.
What did I forget?
…
Yes. Nuha!
I grabbed my phone and searched for her name eagerly.
I was looking for something familiar.
Something from the past.
The ringing went on and on.
With every ring, my desperation grew.
"...Hello?"
I covered my mouth, trying to suppress the sob escaping me.
"Nuha… it's me. Mariam…"
But I couldn't hide the trembling in my voice.
"Mariam! How are you—no, are you okay?"
I heard a sharp gasp from the other end of the phone.
Her urgency matched mine.
"Aunt called me four days ago. She told me you'd contact me once you were discharged. Are you home now? Why are you crying? Are you alright?"
I couldn't hold back my tears anymore.
Every word she spoke pulled the past closer.
I had missed her.
For me, it had only been four days…
But for her?
Four days added to three years without seeing me.
I couldn't stop myself.
The suffocation in my chest only grew worse.
"I'm not okay… I'm not okay at all."
I broke down completely.
Where were all these tears coming from?
And where was this unbearable mint scent coming from?
I looked at Huda's bedding—it was perfectly arranged.
I walked toward it—
but it wasn't the source of the smell.
"Please don't cry, Mariam. Calm down and tell me what's wrong."
I followed the scent as it intensified.
It was coming from directly beneath my desk.
"Nuha… help me!"