Short Stories about Schizophrenia: A Schizophrenic Episode

"Call the ambulance now!" my mother screamed at me. My dad lay bleeding on the sidewalk, blood gushing from his nose and mouth. My brother was screaming with the knife still in his hand. "I am God the Father and I will kill you for your sins," he ranted, "I am God and I will cleanse this family from all iniquities!".

My mind was screaming and felt divided in two parts. Do I help my dad or try to get away from my brother?. Do I help my mom get away from my brother or do I tackle my brother and try to hit him over the head?

The decision was wrenched out of my hands as my brother lunged wildly at me, swinging the knife at my face and my head. I covered my head and tried to duck, my mother screaming frantically as my brother then turned on her.

By this time neighbors came streaming out of their houses, mouths hanging open at the scene before them. "Call 911," I screamed as I pushed my brother up and away from me. My dad was moaning on the sidewalk as my mother stood in shock looking at me with a blank look on her face,.

"Run mom. Get out of here!" I screamed at my mom as my brother came at her again.

Just then the sound of screaming sirens rang down the normally quiet street. My brother started running down the street, still shouting obscenities. Police came filing out of nowhere and the street was filled with people yelling and running. Neighbors scrambled to their porches like scared rabbits, grabbing their kids in terror.

As bad as it was seeing my parents bleeding and hurt, I screamed at the police,"He's sick. Please don't kill him. He has schizophrenia and he's not on his meds". My words were lost in the air as shots rang out and my brother fell to the ground, clutching his head.

My heart was in my chest as I rushed down the street, clutching my robe around me. Paramedics were helping my dad up and whisking him onto the gurney, My mother still stood there, in shock, her face pale as the paramedics sat her down and gently talked to her. Fortunately she wasn't bleeding.

I reached my brother and the cops pushed me back out of the way. He was bleeding profusely as he was handcuffed then loaded onto the gurney. The street looked like a gang fight had taken place, blood littering the ground, the grass and the sidewalk. My mind was blank as the tall cop came over to me and gently placed his hand on my shoulder. It was then that I broke down and started crying like I had never cried before. All the years of terror from living with my brother broke to the surface and I couldn't hold it in any longer. The thing that I had dreaded the most, that someone would get hurt one, had happened.

And it was all my fault.

@Copyright Dorsi Diaz 2011

NOTE: The inspiration for this story came from my experience of living with a family member with paranoid schizophrenia. I have witnessed violence against family members and those images are branded into my brain. People with mental illness need alot of support not only from their family but from the system, which unfortunately has not always been kind to the mentally ill. And those with mental illnesses are not always violent - this is usually in just extreme cases. If you are struggling with a family member who has mental illness there are resources below to help you. Good luck and God bless.

(Dorsi Diaz, the author, is a freelance writer, photographer and artist. This story is fictional and was based on some of Dorsi's true life experiences. Names and circumstances have been changed to protect the innocent and any resemblance to real life is purely coincidental)