Manic Episode Pupils Novels & Stories

Blood. My brain scattered. I looked back at the meal. What the fuck is wrong with him? I made this meal myself. And—and—I ate it too! “What the fuck is going on?! Grey! What is wrong with you?!” I rasped, my eyes growing wide in shock. My heart beating out of proportion. Jeez… my hand started trembling just as I watched him. His eyes—the black pupil was totlly disappearing, being replaced by total white. Sweat prematurely in my sweat glands started seeping out.

But what if that gets me fired? I lie to myself that maybe if I ignore it, it will go away. How so wrong I was . Next thing I know, my knees give out and I fall as if going down on my knees. I'm furiously blinking my eyes to see something or someone but all I see is black and not spots but complete darkness. I'm sure my eyes are open but I can't see a thing as if my pupils have rolled to the back of my eyes . I hear voices, loud and distant. I can't make out anything. I feel like I'm drifting off. Then I neither see nor feel a thing.

However, Celine said, "I'm not crazy. I'm not sick at all!" The doctor looked at Celine coldly and laughed. "Please—a mental patient saying they are fine?" Celine was about to go insane from the anger alone. She exclaimed frantically, "I'm not crazy. No, I'm not!" She was overly emotional and struggled frantically. It was as if she were a crazed demon. After observing her behavior, the doctor told two interns, "This is typical manic-depressive disorder behavior. When it flares up, it can be extremely dangerous. We found her in time; otherwise, the consequences would have been severe."

Even the faint lamplight seemed too much for him. Sweat clung to his skin, dampening his shirt, his hair sticking slightly to his forehead. He looked nothing like the composed, untouchable man everyone feared. Right now, he just looked… human. And hurting. The doctor stood a few feet away, calm but watchful. He clearly knew this wasn’t new. “He’s having a severe episode,” the doctor said quietly to me. “Triggered by alcohol, I assume.” I nodded. “He’s been like this for a while.”

The man is kind of creepy now that I come to think of him. How his scrutinizing gaze and piercing eyes left me all hot and bothered at the same time. And, I could have sworn, I saw his pupils dilated into pitch black in a flash. Almost undetectable. But how is that even humanly possible? Now that I think of it, this only gave me shivers.

’ She said waving it off. ‘So, tell me, how bad has he been lately? I know he’s just putting up an act. And, with you milling about, I know something is terribly wrong.’ Vivian winced, pulled off her glasses and stuffed into her breast pocket. ‘Really bad. Really bad. Sometimes, it takes days for him to snap out of one episode. But, the upside is this. He can stay coherent for hours or days. But when it starts, it’s really bad. You see his nose got broken. One of his episodes started and before we could get it under control, he attacked another patient. That patient broke his nose. We got it fixed but still… if it gets worst, your visiting pass could be revoked or you’d get to see him all ch

“I just wanna have some fun. Just play along.” “Stop it!” I swat his hand away, and when he tries to return it, I push him so hard that he rolls off the bed and hits the carpet with a thud. I crawl to the edge of the bed and find him lying on his back, laughing breathlessly. He seems a bit too manic even for his usual self. “What’s wrong with you?” I get off the bed and lean over him. There’s no smell of alcohol. His pupils, though, are strange, so wide that the blue of his eyes is almost indistinguishable, even though the room is no longer dark.

Why are they not going back to normal? “Why aren’t my pupils going back to normal?” I say worryingly. “Like we told you Killian, that rage frenzy wasn’t your usual one. It was different.” My Mum explains. “He’s had another one?” My Dad asks. “Yes, but this time it was worse.” She adds. I glance out of the window and see the other me stands in the yard. His skin as white as paper and a scarily enormous smile on his face. “Erm… can we go in now?” I ask.

“But before I walked into this room for the first time, I made sure that you were not mandated to report your findings to Lucien, and you said— ” “Only if they threatened the safety of the pack.” The eleven between his brows deepens, like he’s looking for a loophole. “Anna, nearly all people with CSD display aggressive episodes as their disease progresses. You’ve already experienced blackouts and sleepwalking. The other day, you said you clawed into the headboard of your bed overnight— ” “I promise, I don’t need the recap.” I attempt an amused smile to soften my words. We were both here for the last two months, trying pills, injectables, even minor surgery.

Avery froze for a second. His lips were grayish purple. Not normal poor circulation. This was Cardiopulmonary distress after physical depletion. His eyes were bloodshot. Likely from frequent sleep disorders. But his pupils were so dilated she could barely see his irises. Mania and exhaustion written on the same face, like two opposing forces tearing at one person. She had seen faces like this in clinical practice. They were always difficult to handle. She pushed down that second of shock and refocused on his breathing rate.