Chapter 16 The truth
The room was small. Too small. And cold, like the air had been sitting still for years.
Viv sat on the floor with his back against the wall, knees drawn up, fingers limp in his lap.
The walls were pale grey, not quite white, but blank and empty like everything else in the room.
No windows. No furniture. Just four walls, a door which had a small square see through bit, and a dull overhead light that buzzed faintly, like it was on the verge of burning out.
He stared at the opposite wall like it might suddenly offer him an explanation.
Why the hell was he here?
It wasn't his room. It wasn't even a room—it was a box. A sterile box. Maybe a punishment. Solitary or seclusion or whatever the hell they called it in places like this. They'd thrown him in here like he was dangerous. Like he wasn't just a kid waiting for his brother.
He hadn't hit anyone. He hadn't thrown a chair or screamed in anyone's face. He just wanted to see Matteo. And now he was locked in a room like some kind of animal.
The air tasted thick and metallic, and the light above his head was dim enough to make everything feel a little unreal—like he was underwater, or dreaming with his eyes open.
His throat ached from yelling, and his chest felt bruised. Not physically, but something deeper than that. Bruised from the look on Ash's face. Bruised from being dragged out of that room in front of everyone. Bruised from being abandoned.
Again.
He brought his knees closer to his chest and rested his head against them, blinking slowly, blankly, at the floor.
What even was this place? Was it supposed to make people better? Because all Viv felt was worse. Like a kicked dog. Like a joke.
The door creaked open slowly, light from the hallway spilling into the tiny room. Viv didn't lift his head. His eyes stayed fixed on the floor, dull and unfocused. The only sound was the quiet shuffle of shoes against the linoleum as someone stepped inside. Then the door clicked shut again.
Viv's chest tightened. More silence.
Finally, a familiar voice which weas calm and careful.
"It's just me."
Dr. Jacobs. His voice always held this natural steadiness.
Viv didn't move.
Dr. Jacobs hesitated for a second, then crouched down slowly in front of him. There were no chairs in the room—nothing between them now but the space and the heaviness in the air. Eventually, he shifted his legs and sat fully on the floor, cross-legged like a kid in school.
"I'm not here to lecture you," he said gently. "I just want to sit with you for a minute."
Viv finally lifted his head, just a little. His eyes were red-rimmed and glassy, his expression blank but full of something unspoken. Confusion. Hurt. Betrayal. The sting of being treated like a problem instead of a person.
"Why am I in here?" he asked, voice flat.
Dr. Jacobs held his gaze. "Because things escalated, Viv. And we needed to give you a space to calm down. That's all this is."
Viv looked around the room again like it would magically transform into something else. Something kinder. "It feels like a punishment."
"It's not," Dr. Jacobs said quietly. "It's safety. Just... a break. From everything. From everyone."
Viv let out a slow, bitter breath. "You think I'm dangerous."
"No," Dr. Jacobs said. "I think you're overwhelmed."
Viv's fingers twitched where they rested on his knees. "You all just keep watching me like I'm gonna explode or something."
"We watch because we care," Dr. Jacobs said. "Because we want to catch it before it gets to that point."
Viv looked away. "Feels like I'm just making everything worse."
Dr. Jacobs leaned in slightly. "I think you're going through something really hard. And sometimes when people don't know how to express what they're feeling, it comes out as noise, or panic, or shutting down." He paused. "You've been trying to hold it together for too long, Viv."
Viv swallowed hard and stared past Dr. Jacobs at the wall again.
Silence pressed against them both for a moment, heavy and thick.
Then Dr. Jacobs added, even softer, "I know you were looking forward to seeing your brother."
That made Viv's throat clench. He blinked quickly, pushing the burn behind his eyes away again. "Still no word?" he asked, barely above a whisper.
Dr. Jacobs shook his head once, the movement slow and deliberate. "Not yet," he said quietly, his voice laced with regret.
Viv gave a small, defeated nod and lowered his head back to his arms, his body curling in on itself like he was trying to disappear into the floor. The silence that followed was heavy and humming, pressing in on the edges of the small, windowless room.
Dr. Jacobs shifted his weight slightly on the cold tile. "Do you want to talk about him?" he asked gently.
Viv's voice was muffled in his arms. "Who?"
"Matteo."
Viv let out a sharp exhale, almost like a scoff, but it lacked any real force. "Why would I talk about Matteo?"
"I just thought you might want to talk about something you love," Dr. Jacobs offered, careful not to make it sound like a trap.
Viv blinked slowly. His fingers clenched around the fabric of his sleeve. "I... I don't know."
"That's okay," Dr. Jacobs said with a nod. "You don't have to. It was just a suggestion."
There was a long pause.
"When can I go back to my room?" Viv asked, his voice quieter now, brittle at the edges.
"When you've calmed down."
"I am calm," Viv said flatly.
Dr. Jacobs studied him for a moment, then smiled softly. "I can see that. I'm proud of you."
Viv's head lifted slightly, eyes narrowing. "Proud of me?"
"I know it can't be easy," Dr. Jacobs said. "Not getting any visitors in here and—"
"I do get visitors," Viv snapped, sitting up straighter. "I get Matteo."
Dr. Jacobs' expression didn't shift much, but he paused just long enough to make it clear he'd taken that in. He stared at Viv, a little harder now—searching, not accusing.
Viv couldn't hold his gaze. He looked away, back to the wall.
"I can tell you love your brother a lot," Dr. Jacobs said finally, his voice softer again.
"I do," Viv murmured, almost instinctively.
"And he's the only one you feel safe around?"
"Yes." Viv's voice was firmer now, more certain. No hesitation.
Dr. Jacobs tilted his head slightly. "What about your parents?"
Viv's jaw tightened. His whole body went stiff. "This isn't a therapy session, Dr. Jacobs. We don't need to talk about this right now."
"I know," the doctor said, backing off a little. "I just want to understand."
There was another silence. This one felt tenser.
"I have a question," Viv said suddenly.
Dr. Jacobs raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"
"Why are you talking to Matteo behind my back?"
Dr. Jacobs blinked, surprised. "I'm not quite sure what you mean."
Viv's eyes narrowed, the betrayal burning under his skin again. "You told him I don't open up in sessions. Why did you do that?"
Dr. Jacobs looked genuinely confused now. His brow furrowed as he searched Viv's face. "I don't recall this conversation, Viv."
"So you're saying he's lying then?" Viv shot back.
"I... I'm not saying that," Dr. Jacobs said carefully. "But I haven't been speaking to your brother about you behind your back. Trust me when I tell you that me talking to your brother would be... impossible."
Viv stared at him hard. "Why? How can I trust you?"
Dr. Jacobs' gaze faltered. He looked away for a beat too long. "You just have to trust me, Viv."
Viv shook his head. His voice cracked slightly when he said, "I don't. I only trust him."
Dr. Jacobs sighed softly, his eyes filled with a mix of sympathy and sadness. He lowered his head down a little, trying to meet Viv's gaze with gentle steadiness. His face held nothing but remorse and guilt. "How can you trust somebody who isn't here anymore?"
"What?" Viv asked in confusion.
"I know this is going to be hard to hear," Dr Jacobs said in a small voice, eyes shimmering with sadness. "But Viv... Matteo isn't real. Not anymore."
Viv's heart stopped. His breath caught in his throat. Why the hell would Dr. Jacobs say something like that? What the fuck was wrong with him? "What... what do you mean?"
Dr. Jacobs sighed softly.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Viv asked. "Of course Matteo is real. He's my brother."
"I know that but-"
"But nothing," Viv snapped. "How dare you?"
"Viviano, you need to listen to me."
"My name is Viv!"
Dr. Jacobs nodded slowly. "Viv, I know this is hard to hear. But... you have schizophrenia. Sometimes it makes your mind create things that feel very real but unfortunately, they're just not. You may create people, voices, and even memories."
Viv shook his head, panic rising fast, breath coming shorter. "No. No, you're lying. Matteo came to visit me. I know he did. I can't—"
Dr. Jacobs' voice stayed soft, but firm. "Matteo died five months ago. On Halloween night."
The words hit Viv like a thunderclap. His knees felt weak, and he sagged against the wall, hands shaking as he pressed them to his ears, trying to shut the world out. "No..."
"Viv, please listen to me."
"No. No, that's not true. That can't be true. I saw him. He was here. He came to visit me." Tears welled suddenly, blurring his vision. His chest tightened so much it was hard to breathe.
"I'm sorry, Viv. I'm so sorry. I know this is devastating for you, but we need to help you heal."
"You don't understand. He... he spoke to me. He spoke to Ash!"
Viv's mind spiralled, confusion, fear, disbelief all crashing together. The room felt smaller, darker. The reality he'd held onto was slipping through his fingers, and panic clawed its way up, making him want to scream, to run, to disappear.
Dr. Jacobs took a slow, steadying breath, his voice soft but unwavering.
"Maybe the medication is starting to work.
That's why you can't see Matteo anymore.
Or it could be your brain is... fragmenting, trying to make sense of things it can't handle.
" He paused, letting the words sink in. "Therapy can help us get to the bottom of this, Viv. We'll work through it together."
But Viv only shook his head, tears streaming freely down his face. His chest heaved with sobs as the reality crumbled around him. "I don't believe you," he whispered brokenly. "You're lying. You're all out to get me."
Dr. Jacobs reached out cautiously, his hand hovering but not touching. "I'm here to help, Viv. I'm not your enemy."
Viv flinched away, retreating into himself. The room felt colder, emptier, as the fragile thread of trust snapped, leaving him alone with his fear and confusion.
Dr. Jacobs stood up slowly, his eyes soft but firm. "I'm gonna give you some space. Take all the time you need to calm down and think things over. I'll be nearby if you want to talk."
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Viv alone in the tiny, bare room. The silence pressed down on him like a weight, heavy and suffocating. His heart hammered in his chest, and his mind was a storm of disbelief and panic.
No. That can't be real. Matteo can't be dead. He swallowed hard, feeling like his whole world had just shattered into a million pieces and he didn't even know where to start picking them up.
Everything he'd held on to—the memories, the hope—felt like some sick joke. How could someone just come in here and tell him his brother wasn't real? That he'd been living a lie?
His throat tightened, and his hands curled into fists. He wanted to scream, to shout at the empty walls, to run and never look back. But all that came out was a choked whisper, "No... no, this isn't happening."
He hugged his knees to his chest, wishing for anything but this unbearable truth.
Viv rocked slightly back and forth on the cold floor, his head spinning. Is that why I'm here? The thought hit him hard—maybe losing Matteo, losing his grip on what was real, was exactly what landed him in this place.
But then a new wave of confusion crashed over him. Why can't I remember it? The night Matteo died—Halloween, Dr. Jacobs said. It should be burned into his mind, but it was like a thick fog had swallowed it whole. Like his brain was protecting him from something too awful to face.
His chest tightened, and a bitter taste filled his mouth. Am I crazy? The word echoed in his head, harsh and sharp. Was he losing himself bit by bit? Was this place a prison for the broken parts of his mind?
He swallowed hard, eyes stinging with unshed tears. If Matteo's not real anymore... then who am I? The question stabbed at him, leaving a hollow ache he didn't know how to fill.
Viv pushed himself up from the floor, his legs shaky but driven by a sudden surge of anger and desperation. He stepped toward the door and slammed his fists against it, the sound sharp and echoing in the small, bare room.
"Let me out! I don't believe you!" he yelled, voice cracking with raw emotion. "Matteo's not dead! You're lying! Let me see him, or let me out of here!"
His fists hit the door harder, nails scraping the surface as panic bubbled up inside him. "I won't stay locked in here, not without him! You can't erase him from my life!"
Breathing heavy and heart pounding, Viv pressed his forehead against the door, eyes closed tight, unwilling to accept the impossible truth. The walls felt like they were closing in, but still, he refused to let go of Matteo.
Through the small square see-through bit of the door, Viv caught sight of Nurse Carla. His breath hitched.
"Carla!" he shouted, voice raw and desperate. "Please, you have to tell me the truth! Where's Matteo? Why won't anyone tell me anything?"
There was a pause and a sigh. "Viv..."
He could hear the sadness in it. The way her tone dropped slightly, like she hated being the one to say it.
"Please?" he begged, choking on the word.
"Dr. Jacobs was telling the truth."
Viv recoiled like he'd been punched. He shook his head even though she couldn't see him. "No. No, because if Matteo was dead, I would remember. I would know that. You don't just forget something like that."
"That's how trauma works sometimes, sweetheart," she said softly, her voice cracking just a little. "The brain is a powerful thing. It protects you when it thinks you can't handle something."
"Please just... can you get me out of here?" His voice wavered. "I wanna go back to my room. Please, Carla. Please."
There was another pause, longer this time. Viv could hear her sigh, slow and full of conflict.
"I don't know," she said carefully. "I have to speak to Dr. Jacobs first and get his opinion on whether you're well enough to go back to your room just yet."
"But I'm fine," Viv said quickly, the words tumbling out in a shaky rush. "I swear, I'm fine. Please. I won't yell anymore, I won't freak out, I just— I just don't want to be here. It's too small. I can't breathe in here. Please, Carla. Please."
She didn't answer right away. He could see her move slightly behind the door, shifting her weight, maybe wiping her eyes, maybe just trying to decide.
"Please?" Viv begged.
Finally, she said gently, "Let me talk to Dr. Jacobs. Just stay calm for me, okay?"
And then the soft pad of her shoes faded down the hallway.
Viv hunched down on the ground, his palms pressed against the door like maybe, somehow, it would open if he just held on long enough. His heart was thudding so loudly in his ears it felt like it was trying to climb its way out of his chest.
The room suddenly felt impossibly quiet. Too quiet.
"Matteo's not dead," he whispered to himself, voice cracking. "He's not. He can't be."
But there was no voice this time.
No voice in his head. No warm laugh in his ear. No shadow in the corner. No Matteo. Just the four pale walls, the soft hum of fluorescent light, and the sickening, empty silence.
The heavy door creaked open.
Viv didn't move at first. His breath hitched as he turned slowly toward the light spilling in from the hallway. Dr. Jacobs stood there, a calm silhouette framed by the dim glow. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his cardigan, his expression unreadable but soft around the edges.
"Viv," he said gently. "Are you sure you're okay to go back to your room?"
Viv hesitated. His knees ached from how long he'd been on the floor, but his chest ached more. He wasn't sure of anything. Not really. Not anymore. Not where he was, not what was real, not who he could trust anymore... but he couldn't stay in this tiny, box-like room another second.
He slowly nodded. "Yeah," he said hoarsely. "I'm sure."
Dr. Jacobs stepped aside, giving him space. "We'll walk together."
Viv stood, legs stiff and unsteady. He didn't meet the doctor's eyes as he shuffled past him and out into the hallway.
The air out here felt cooler, more open, but the weight inside him hadn't changed.
If anything, it pressed down harder now, like the walls were still closing in, just invisible this time.
They walked in silence.
Each step toward his room felt like a slow return to a life he didn't understand anymore.
When they reached his room, Dr. Jacobs paused outside the door. "If anything feels too heavy," he said softly, "you come find me. Or Nurse Carla. You don't have to carry all of this by yourself."
Viv didn't answer. Just nodded wordlessly.
Dr Jacobs nodded and then patted him on the arm before walking off down the hallway.
Viv let out a small shaky breath, walked inside the room, and sat down on his bed like he was made of stone. The door closed behind him. This time, the silence wasn't just empty. It was mourning.
Viv didn't even notice at first. He'd been staring at the same corner of the room, mind fogged, breath shallow, body slumped on the edge of his bed like he wasn't really in it.
Everything around him was muffled, like the world had turned into background noise behind a thick wall of glass.
He only blinked out of it when he saw movement in the corner of his eye. A figure crouched in front of him.
Ash.
Their brows were furrowed, eyes soft and cautious as they looked up at him. "Viv?" Ash said, voice low and careful, like he wasn't sure how loud he was allowed to be. "Are you okay?"
Viv just stared. Not at Ash. Through them. Like they were barely there. His lips were slightly parted, but no sound came out. He didn't nod. Didn't shake his head. He just sat there, hollowed out and still. Ash stayed where they were, crouched on the floor, giving Viv space but not leaving either.
"Hey," they tried again, softer this time. "You're back. That's good. I... I was worried."
No reaction.
Ash glanced around the room, then slowly reached up and placed a hand gently on Viv's knee. Not to push, not to pull, just to remind him he wasn't alone. Viv flinched, barely, like he wasn't used to being touched anymore. But he didn't pull away.
Still, his mouth wouldn't move. His thoughts wouldn't untangle. He just sat there, breathing like it hurt, like his chest was empty but still too full. Every word that might have come up, about Matteo, about the truth, about how nothing made sense anymore, stayed trapped behind his clenched jaw.
Ash didn't push. They just stayed there, hand resting lightly, gaze steady and patient. And for a second, just one, Viv felt like maybe the world wasn't completely falling apart. Even if he couldn't feel anything. Even if he didn't know what was real anymore.
At least someone was still here.
At least Ash was real.