Novel & Cerita Schizophrenia Fiction Books

Heyo, I'm Chime Chininso. Thank you for taking the time to check out my book. You've made this author a happy Shadow is my first story and you are going to enjoy it. If you haven’t seen my other work “Confessions Of An Exorcist” please do. It’s worth the read. I’m gonna blow your mind. This work is completely an imaginative one. It would be best not to get offended by it. Any character in resemblance to actual person—living or deceased is a coincidence. Every character in this book is a product of the author’s imagination and hard work.

The bookshelf was just as tall as Andrew so he could easily access the books there. The bookshelf had all sorts of books, ranging from fictional novels to nonfictional novels, to educational novels and textbooks. Her eyes caught titles like; The Redwall series by Brian Jacques, Caddie Woodlawn by Carol Ryrie Brink, The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros and a lot more. Even the Encyclopedia was in his bookshelf. And there was also some novels on the basis of business and finance. The book the lad was currently reading was The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie.

The Aurora in front of me was not real, a mere mirage crafted by the turmoil within my mind. A manifestation of schizophrenia, that cruel architect of distorted realities. As these thoughts lingered, the abrupt ring of my phone shattered the silence. The caller ID displayed a familiar name: the doctor from the monastery. I hesitated for a moment before answering, my voice tinged with weariness. "Yes, Doctor?" "Mr. Xander, I'm concerned about you," the doctor's voice came through, tinged with worry. "The staff mentioned you've been experiencing hallucinations. Are you feeling alright?"

Halverson had prescribed it, convinced it was the key to controlling whatever madness had a grip on me. He called it "schizophrenia" at first. Told me it was a chemical imbalance, that the voices, the visions, the unbearable sensation of Cassian’s presence—it was all in my mind. But it didn’t work. The pills weren’t stopping him. They weren’t stopping any of it. Cassian—I could feel him now, just beneath my skin, coiling tighter, his whispers slithering through my thoughts like a poison. His voice was a constant hum at the edge of my awareness, a low murmur that made my chest tighten and my breath catch.

I lathered the shampoo into her thin silver hair as I thought about how dangerous her grandson was. I had spent many hours wanting him to take me into the supply closet and push me against the wall. I wanted him to touch me, but I didn’t. My psychiatrist had been telling me that my fantasies were a part of my fear of dying alone. I rolled my eyes again. As if. She was also the same person that told me my fantasies of wanting a werewolf to chase me through the woods was a sign of obsession. She would follow that by saying that I should stop reading shifter books, but come on, who wouldn’t want to be ravished by a big, strong furry half man half wolf beast. Just the thought of teeth sinking in

“Sickness?” He looked at Stacy again before meeting my eyes. “It’s called Schizophrenia.” Schizophrenia. As someone who read a lot, I was aware of what that was. It had to do with bad, chronic hallucinations. It was a mental sickness. God. I thought back to the first day I packed in and met her in the room...how excited she’d been to greet me and Sean, bubbling like she’d just been given the world. I hadn’t understood then. She was glad to have a roomate because she had never had one before.

I had to admit that Bianca was way better than Sabrina at seeing through liars from the start. I took the second apple she peeled for me and chuckled mockingly. "Oh, maybe his depression got triggered or something." I paused for a bit and made sure to emphasize the next few words. "Severe depression, I believe." Bianca giggled. "That's not severe depression. That's schizophrenia. I strongly suggest that he be taken to the psychiatric ward so he'll recover faster."

A fictional murder should not have felt devastating. Yet it did. She opened the next journal. Then the next. And the next. By two in the morning she reached the final notebook. The psychiatric hospital. The disappearance of Zara. The jasmine. The ending. When she finally closed the cover, tears stood unexpectedly in her eyes. The realization embarrassed her slightly. She was crying over hallucinations. Over people who had never existed. Yet she couldn't stop. Because somewhere during those thousands of pages she had stopped reading about symptoms. And started reading about love.

I hope everything is okay. "She's turning herself around while having a tiptoe. And the worst, she even screamed a fury in the middle of the mall without any reason. Do these characteristics considered to be what crazy people do?" Sophia hissed aggressively ran her hands through her hair. "Sophia, what you are talking about is schizophrenia, not autism." Mom insisted, stepped towards Sophia with a smile. It seems like mom wanted to have an optimistic atmosphere. I can see from my room how my sister rolled her eyes in front of mom.

Izzy was just quiet as she listened to me as I spoke while giving her the books to pile in the boxes. "We're rich, Izzy, but no money could help me escape Rian or my mind. We tied therapy a few times before Rian, but they never worked. They only made me wore, because I feel like I can't breathe on my own," I looked at the book in my hand and it was one of my favorite books, The samurai game by Christine Feehan. "These books," I whispered as a tear fell from my eyes, "they need to go. I need to face my reality, and these books are preventing me from doing it," Izzy stood up and hugged me.