Insane Mind Over Clear Matter

[Flamebird]

She slammed her fist into the wooden beam, causing it to crack like shattering glass from the weight of her blow. Her muscled arm was throbbing, hand protected by a thick leather glove to avoid accidental cuts. Her entire outfit, a thick covering outfit, was to prevent those types of accidents while she was in the medical wing. Still, it was obvious as day that she had tons of pain, converted to rage, as she stayed here longer.

"No! You won't! You can't!"

The doctor holding the papers eyed her with a blank face, unaffected by her little temper tantrum. As Felicity glared into his eyes with such intensity, he simply started to neaten his stacks of paper. "I can and will, Miss Rhyolite."

Her body seemed to twitch in response, her face softening in a plea, desperate desire to appear strong. "But- I just got promoted! You can't!"

He pushed his glasses on his face, picking up the papers from the medical table. As Felicity stood in the corner of the room, fuming, the rest of the white, clean checkup room was in perfect condition aside the wooden beam she just decimated. After long silence, he placed the neatened papers on the table again. Then, he pulled his white coat over his body. "If you really desire help, Rhyolite, you will need to let your teacher know of your diagnosis."

"What diagnosis?" She was stubborn. For the first time, the man glared in disapproval as she crossed her arms, looking away dismissively.

"Felicity," He sighed, "You are ill in the head. You know it, you let us see it. You need to heal."

She looked back at him, slits for eyes, "So why isn't your medication working?" She spat.

He sighed, picking up the papers again. "This will take way longer to heal than any other wounds, Rhyolite. We went over this."

Once again, anger hissed like steam from a heart coated in cracked ice as she threw her arm, "Why tell him though?!"

"Because he needs to know!" The man shouted back, "As the leader of the Brotherhood he deserves it!"

"But it will make me look weak!"

"So what!"

She stopped, looking away again in clear dismay. She shook, looking down in boiling agony. She could not look weak. She needed to prove herself! Even from the medical wing, she received the news that she was promoted to General. She needed to be out in the barracks, with her new troops, proving her worth. Instead, the doctors kept her cooped up here for two extra days to evaluate her. Not physically, but mentally. The results shook her, and she was still in denial. As the silent, white room awaited the release of tension, she shook.

The doctor spoke again, more gently. "I promised you would get well again, child. But it will take steps." He narrowed his eyes at the girl, "Let others in."

For a long moment, silence. She stood there, eyes hidden by shadow as she slumped in defeat. Her head was such a mess. So much! She...

She turned back to the beam without warning. The rest of the white painted beam was torn straight from the wall, thrown to the ground as she screamed. As she brought her boot down upon it, repeatedly, she released rare curses into the air in all her fear and anger. After several shocking seconds of the display, she stopped. Kicking the splintered wreck across the room, she spat her answer back. "Then give Osiris the damn medical papers! Fine!"

She raised her fist again, slamming it into the concrete wall. The doctor watched her familiar display of sickness. This girl was not well.

I have so many doubts on Osiris' decision to promote her. She not only is new here, but is unready with her current mental state. We have diagnosed the PTSD, but what else? Anger issues are another problem. He shook his head, sadness overtaking him as he walked towards the door. She is not the only one. Many Brotherhood soldiers also are diagnosed with this. But unlike them, her traumas were not from the front lines.

He opened the door, sighing. I became a doctor to help people. So, I do feel upset when they don't want help so they can save face.

He closed the door, leaving the disturbed patient behind to brood.