Dante’s POV
Just when I thought my mind was finally clean, it suddenly got worse. I can’t stop thinking about my fear that the world is gonna end. I had this fear before, but I didn’t think about it as much as my general sadness about human suffering. Right when I started to let go, my existential dread became way worse than it ever was. I’m starting to understand what Celeste means when she says it never gets better. I even have a specific prediction of when the world will end. March 22nd, 2024.
(Author’s note: this part of the story currently takes place in August 2022, because the characters are the same age as me so this takes place when I would have been in 10th grade and my characters also would have been).
I don’t know how I have a specific idea of what date it would be. It got in my head when I had nightmares about the world ending and in every single one, I would look at a calendar in the beginning of the dream, and it always said March 22nd, 2024.
In class, we’re reading a graphic novel about history. We get to a really graphic, violent part. It involves people getting killed in ways that they never ever should. I can’t even describe it. I look around the classroom and I get uncontrollable visions of these things happening to my classmates. I get an intrusive thought about the teacher’s head falling off while she’s reading the book to us. My mind doesn’t spare me the details of how bloody it would be. I feel like I can’t be here anymore. I ask if I can go to the bathroom and end up staying there for the rest of class.
Later when we’re in PE, during the jogging Darla trips and falls. She gets up and is just fine, but I feel sorry for her. She has no injuries. After we finish all the stretches, we start playing baseball. As Courtney runs to second base, she trips and falls really hard on the ground, and it visibly hurts but she still decides that she’s ok enough to keep going. She definitely will end up with a bruise. Then as we’re about to leave, Jake’s asshole friend Mason trips Tyler on purpose, and she starts crying. I run up to her and help her up. She fell onto the concrete, so her knee is scraped and it’s bleeding. I realize that each time someone fell, they had a worse injury than the last person. Even though it’s simple and doesn’t mean anything, I can’t help but fixate on it. Nothing is simple or meaningless anymore with my level of paranoia.
At lunch, I sit with Celeste, Kat, Skyler and Sugar as usual. I completely tune out of the conversation because I’m absorbed in my thoughts. I keep having thoughts of horrific violence happening. Sometimes I think it actually is happening around me. The worst part is that I know these thoughts are going to come true one day.
When I eventually tune back in, Kat and Celeste aren’t even sitting here anymore. Skyler and Sugar are bickering.
“Why would you question me when you know that I know everything about candy! Dante, tell us what you think!” Sugar says as she turns to me
“Uhh, I’m sorry, what are you arguing about?” I respond
“If M&Ms or Skittles are better” Skyler says
“Uhhh, I guess M&Ms”
“SEE! I TOLD YOU, SKYLER”
They keep bickering, almost like an old married couple. I don’t know how they’re not dating yet.
In Independent Living Skills, I almost start to fall asleep. I have visions of everyone in the classroom standing up suddenly. For some reason they all have knives. They start killing each other, for absolutely no reason, mindlessly. I sit here unable to stop it. They’re like zombies, there’s no emotion behind their eyes.
Ms. Marcy taps me on my shoulder, waking me up. This is the first time I’ve been happy to be woken up by a teacher. I look around at my classmates, all sitting there perfectly normal. I feel so glad to see everything normal. Nobody has knives, the dream wasn’t real. Nobody has knives, the dream wasn’t real. I continue to reassure myself in my head.
“Hey Dante, what’s going on?” Angie asks me as she enters my room
“I feel scared. I know something bad is gonna happen.”
“You mean to one of us? To one of your friends?”
“I keep having visions. Visions of people mindlessly killing each other. Everyone’s gonna die. Something terrible is gonna happen. Not just to us, but globally.”
“Dante, you sound a little crazy right now. I don’t think you’re thinking clearly.”
“I know it doesn’t sound like I am, but I know I’m right. I wouldn’t be as worried as I am if I didn’t always end up being right.”
“Dante, I promise you aren’t right. These are delusions. You need to talk to your therapist about this.”
“I wish you were right but I promise I am not insane this is real!”
“I don’t think you’re insane, I just think you’re paranoid”
“And I’m telling you that I wish I was.”
“What evidence do you have for any of this?”
“I just know it’s true. I can feel it. I can feel the dread. I even have a specific date in my head. Simple paranoia doesn’t go this far.”
Before our conversation can continue, we get called for dinner by Mom and Dad.
I have to force myself to eat my dinner. I feel really sick. I don’t want Mom to worry about my health and I especially don’t want her to worry that she didn’t make good food, so I eat all of it anyway. After dinner is over, I overhear Angie talking to them.
“He’s having thoughts about the world ending, about people mindlessly killing each other, really disturbing stuff”
“Did you tell him he should talk to his therapist about it?” My mom responds
“Yes. He insists that these thoughts aren’t delusions, that it really is gonna happen. It’s impossible to convince him otherwise”
“That almost makes me scared that he really is right. He has very good intuition, and the state of the world is constantly getting worse” My dad says
“But we also know he is very emotional and anxious. Sometimes even intuitive people can have their judgment fogged by strong emotions, especially fear”
“He thought I was saying he’s crazy. I don’t think he’s crazy. I do think his thoughts are delusions, but I just mean he’s paranoid”
“We’ll talk to him about it tomorrow” My mom says
I sigh, and then change into my pjs and get in my bed. I try to get comfortable. I remember when Angie told me that sleep deprivation puts me at higher risk of anxiety and depression. The thing is, my anxiety makes it hard to sleep. So it’s a vicious cycle. I toss and turn and feel sick. My head is filled with parasites. I don’t know why I have these violent disturbing thoughts, and worst of all why they seem so real to me. I feel like there is something wrong with me, like maybe I am crazy. But I also know that I am not. I know that my fears are real. I can just tell. I don’t need evidence.
After about an hour of being unable to sleep, I move into the living room. I grab all of the pillows on the couch and start building a pillow fort. I remember when Angie and I were younger, we would make pillow forts and say that they kept the monsters away. She was too old to believe in monsters by then, but she knew I was still young and already a very fearful person so she played along to comfort me. When I’m done building the pillow fort, I lay down inside it and finally feel comforted enough to go to sleep.
Broken Minds 