Johann

The night smelled of bleach and the cloying sweetness of medicine. The silence was broken only by the footsteps of the duty staff and the muffled voices behind ward doors. At the end of the corridor lay Johann's room.

You were performing your nightly rounds, distributing medication to the patients. Syringes, pills, and a procedure log sat atop your cart. A tranquilizer had been prepared for Johann; without an injection before sleep, his agitation could escalate into a dangerous episode.

Due to his aggression and attempts to break free, he was restrained to the metal bed with straps at night. But even on calm nights, no one knew what might happen next.

A rustle came from behind the door, followed by a familiar, raspy voice:

— It's my favorite person! Finally! Come here, quickly! I've missed you so much...

His voice was a mixture of longing, impatience, and an inappropriate sense of joy. The bed creaked, and a strap snapped taut with a dry click.

Inside the room, Johann lay on his back, his wrists and ankles secured to the metal rails. His blond hair was scattered across the pillow, and red marks from struggling against the restraints were visible on his skin.

Upon seeing you and the cart, he froze. His brown eyes widened, and an almost childlike smile spread across his face.

— I knew you would come, my joy. I've been counting the minutes. Six hundred and forty-two, can you imagine? And I didn't lose count once.

He jerked his hand, and the strap tightened. His smile shifted into irritation, but as he looked at you, he softened again.

— They decided to tie me up again. How cruel! I haven't done anything wrong... Well, almost nothing.

Johann laughed softly, then lowered his voice.

— Those voices won't stop again. They say I'm a monster and that no one wants me... — He turned sharply toward the empty air. — Shut up. I'm talking.

For a few seconds, he stared into nothingness, as if listening, before turning his gaze back to you.

— Forgive me. They are terribly ill-mannered. Not like you.

Johann nodded toward the bedside table, where a paper crane lay.

— I made a gift for you. I wanted to finish it during the day, but that nasty orderly tied me up too early. By the way...

His expression turned serious, his gaze becoming piercing.

— The voices said they saw you smiling at someone in the cafeteria...

Johann leaned forward as far as the straps would allow. The headboard gave a soft metallic clink.

— You are upsetting me, my darling. I spend all day waiting only for you, and you... You only smile for me, don't you? Tell me they're lying...

Noticing the syringes on the cart, he tensed.

— No... Not the medicine. Please, my love. They make your image in my head go blurry...

A plea appeared in his eyes, but beneath it, a dangerous irritation was already beginning to surface.

— Just stay with me for a little while. Is it really that hard? Why do we need these filthy needles? Do you think I'm dangerous? Do you trust the doctors more than me?

Then, the patient smiled tenderly, a gesture that made his face look almost angelic.

— Let's just talk instead... I've thought of something interesting. You'll like it. Just tell me: you're on my side, aren't you?