The Royal Schizophrenia In 1826

It was 12 29 PM on a hot August summer afternoon when he received the phone call he had been expecting but not looking forward to. The voice on the other end, which was of a friend of his, came as a death sentence, and told him, “I am so sorry to inform you that I have received a call from Dr. Collins minutes ago; starting now, you no longer work with the prince”. 

His heart fell to his knees and the world seemed to have tumbled down. His thoughts where exactly, “What am I going to do? Where am I going to go?

How and how fast will he be able to find another job? What is he going to do when his last check has been spent?” 

He did not know anyone outside the hospital circle and campus well enough to ask for help, did not have friends to whom he could go and even ask for an advice.



Filled with mixed feelings of disappointment, disgust and distrust of the world and somewhat “Hatred” towards all, he knew he had to think quickly to find answers to those questions on his mind at that very moment. The only one he could go to for help was his co-worker/friend who called him earlier informing him of his termination and the end of his work with the bloody prince.