Folie's Parallel

By Tristan Nesvilla

*Adult Content is Adult language and violent scenes*

There are only three truths I know to be pure.

At age thirteen my mind began to perceive the unbelievable as reality. Things and thoughts known to be crazy and unnatural were a regular occurrence in my mind as auditoria and visual hallucinations. My train of thought became more scrambled and my emotional state of being became unbalanced.

At age Seventeen the mental delusions became harder and harder to block out. I went to a psychologist to make sense of my closest family hopelessly alienating me. I was told I had an unusually high dopamine level in my brain. He said this was the early-on symptoms of psychosis. Three months later, I was diagnosed with a severe case of schizophrenia. I was prescribed a series of antipsychotic medication. I took the cocktail of medication 2 times a day every week for the next 5 years of my life with only minor hallucinations and psychotic cracks. Those five years were the most normal and dull years of my life.

At age twenty-three I met a strange man by the name of Finn Quincy Folie. He told me that my doctor was wrong, he always had been. He said that I was meant for more, and I had to stop taking my medication to realize it. That was the first day I drifted away from my daily habit of drugging myself and numbing my emotions. One week from then, one whole week of not taking my medication. I found out that I am not a schizophrenic. I discovered that my hallucinations and delusions weren't a figment of my mind, but a glimpse into alternate realities.

My name is Finn Quincy Folie and I am not crazy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tristan Nesvilla
• Release date: Oct 9, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310976391

Tristan Nesvilla

I love writing and reading fiction fantasy/thrillers. I find a comfy spot on the couch, and binge write stories of the same type. I'm a very private person. If you have any questions you can e-mail me @[e-mail] short story I just finished was called "Folie's Parallel" and you can read it for free right here!1-Sentence Summary: Think Sci-Fi "Fight Club"Currently working on a YA project set in Europe. Can't reveal much details yet.

Book preview

F

olie’s Parallel

By Tristan Nesvilla

C

ontents

Cover

Title page

Prologue

Part 1: The Man in the Mirror

Part 2: Meeting Vicieux Garcon

Part 3: Saving Andrea

Part 4: Family Reunion

Part 5: Killing V

Part 6: The End

P

rologue

The old man died at 11:59 pm. His crumpled corduroy suit was caked in a layer of dust which safely protected his mustard stained tie. In his scratched glasses, the moon reflected what was left of his old tattered leather shoes. Crumpled pieces of notebook paper spilled from his jean pockets as he lay softly on the gravel floor. The coffee stains on his jeans screamed that he was always in a rush, and I guess rushing finally killed him.

His name was Finn Folie, just like me. Although I could see that in his eyes, minutes before I was able to swipe his wallet. Maybe it was my paranoid delusions that were pushing me over the edge, or maybe it’s the fact that I really did die tonight; At least some version of me. I dig my hand into the back pocket of my jeans and groan as balls of crumpled notebook paper fall to the ground. I open the folded up fortune that the gypsy gave me at the carnival two hours ago. The fortune reads, You are going to die tonight. I sigh, That’s what I thought it said. Ugh, fucking gypsies.

P

art 1: The Man in the Mirror

I woke up late on a Saturday morning with the wind roaring, and the rain tapping on my window with its sharp fingernails. Some part of me knew it was the rustles of tree branches brushing against my windows, but the child in me feared for the things that lurked in the darkness. It was my adult sensibilities that caused me to drag myself from my bed

As I walked into the bathroom I saw a shadow sails across the tile floor, impulsively I drew inward and threw myself back against the door. The loud bang from the door hitting its jam reminding me not to be so foolish. Shadows and monsters were things of fairy tale, not reality. Despite the conjured comforts of mature thoughts, my hand grabbed wildly for the nearest weapon. My fingers clenched the closest available defense, but it seems unlikely any monster would fear a picture of my departed sister. When she was alive her pallid blonde hair and bright turquoise eyes was something that people adored, not ran from. It was very unlikely something so precious can protect me in anyway, but in the red hot second of my fear even a fragile glass memory held some comfort. For a moment I stood there my heart beat loud in my ears, fingers still clutched around the delicate gold frame unbelieving the noises that seemed to be coming from my bathroom. The fin