Free Adapt by Edward Freeland

Daniel insisted. “I don’t need medication.”
    “You do. I understand your parents brought you here. I would like to call them in.”
    A nurse guided Harry and Clarissa to the office. Dr Cribson analysed the concern in their expression. “Mr and Mrs O’Neal. Your son is very ill. You were right to bring him to me, I can cure his sickness.”
    “We weren’t sure what to do,” his father said. “We have never been in a situation like this. Daniel usually thinks things through thoroughly.”
    “This is unusual behaviour, then?” the doctor asked, glaring at Clarissa.
    “I’ve never known Daniel to be so anxious,” she said. Daniel stared at the floor.
This is unbelievable. He hasn’t listened to a word I have said.
    “I believe he needs to be on my ward, as of immediately,” the doctor said.
    “That’s up to him,” said Harry whilst looking at Daniel. Dr Cribson bypassed Daniel and handed Harry a strip of pills.
    “Your son is an adult, but with his illness he can’t analyse a situation and decipher what is best for himself,” said Dr Cribson. “He is very sick, these are essential in his recovery.” Harry looked at the pills and glanced up at the doctor. “If you want to help Daniel, make sure he takes these. Tonight. It’s urgent.”
    “Okay,” his father said.
    Dr Cribson stroked his beard, his bleak grey eyes studying his new patient.

Seeking Sanctuary
    Daniel couldn’t sleep that night. He hadn’t slept comfortably since the situation began. Tonight was worse. He reluctantly took the pills as the doctor advised. Lying on one side, he would then try the other, sit up, rub his face then try again. He would pace back and forth in his room, then try once more.
    Psychotic,
he thought,
that’s a most disconcerting evaluation. It’s damning. I know I’m not psychotic. The man has intent. How can he say I’m psychotic, knowing what that could do to my life?
    Daniel’s head ached, a pain consumed his mind, restricting his thoughts and drowning cognitive efficiency.
I want to end this. I need to end this. I have not opened up a new door, I’ve opened up a new front, a new domain of damaging entropy. Psychosis.
He sat at the end of his bed.
How can I end this?
    He stood up and put on a pair of jogging bottoms. He looked at the time,
four in the morning.
Barefooted and bare chested he walked to the back door. He braced against the cold as he stepped out. Ice on the ground reached out to the soles of his feet; he lacked any acknowledgement that the nerve endings on his toes were freezing. In the garage he knew what he was looking for. He grabbed both items then walked out, across the rigid cold blades of grass. He stood under the dead branches and leafless twigs of the huge oak tree. Foreboding and menacing under the moonlight. Daniel set the ladder under a thick branch, the rope in his hand rough and course as he climbed each step. The knot he tied was strong, as was the rope. Then came the noose. He lookedat the moon, the only thing in his mind was his family. Was he capable of doing that to them? He would be responsible for his parents’ loss of a son. Freya, Marcus, Luke and Alana would lose an uncle.
Weak
, he thought.
I have always fought when I needed to. Your hands are tied at the moment. Once freed you can take on the bullies. You would be the coward if you do this.
    “Daniel,” his father’s voice called. “Daniel.” From atop the ladder he turned around, still holding the rope. His father grabbed his arm. He couldn’t feel the cold but he felt his father’s grip; his hand was warm as he pulled Daniel off of the ladder. Two silhouettes, facing each other, neither able to see the other’s face clearly.
    “What were you thinking?” he asked. Without waiting for an answer he said, “let’s go in, it’s freezing out here.” The pair walked toward the house in silence. They headed for the living room, where Daniel sat down as his father placed a few logs on the fire. The wood