Schizophrenia
A Novel by Asmaa Nada
chapter 9
Nerouz, who had just walked out of Daniel’s room, wasn’t satisfied with what she had accomplished. Those papers weren’t just legal documents—they were chapters of a stolen life.
For years, she had been forced to live under the name Maggie—the shy, fragile persona her fractured mind had created to shield her from the horror of her past.
After leaving the hospital, she didn’t return to her marital home. Instead, she went back to the small town where her childhood had once bloomed—and where it had also died the day her bankrupt father sold her.
That same night, she made sure no one ever bought that house again. Through her quiet power and money, she had kept it abandoned, a monument to her pain.
Now, she returned under the cover of darkness. The storm outside flashed against the cracked walls, throwing long shadows through the empty corridors.
She stepped into her old bedroom—the place that once smelled of jasmine and warmth—and now reeked of mold and memories.
Nerouz sat down on the threshold, leaned her head against the doorframe, and let her mind drift back.
A month after the assault, Nerouz lived in silence. The doctors had labeled her condition as Dissociative Identity Disorder.
Her mother spent nights crying beside her, watching her daughter sleep as though guarding a ghost.
One night, Nerouz awoke to the muffled sound of her mother’s sobs. She crept closer and placed her small hand on her mother’s shoulder.
“What’s wrong, Mama? Are you sick?” she whispered.
Her mother pulled her into a tight embrace—a desperate, guilty one. “No, sweetheart. I’m fine. I’m just... thinking about your father. He left us, Maggie... he left us for another woman.”
Nerouz whispered softly, “I’m Elise, Mama. And I heard you... talking to that man with the cold eyes.”
Her mother froze. “What man, darling? I don’t remember.”
“The one in the kitchen... the one you told, ‘I know that bastard is the one who hurt my daughter, but I can’t do anything. I have to agree to the move, or she’ll end up in prison.’”
Her mother’s eyes widened with terror. She hadn’t realized how much her child’s subconscious had absorbed—and now repeated word for word.
Quickly, she said, “What prison, sweetheart? You didn’t do anything wrong. That was just a bad dream. Yes... we’re moving, but it’s only to find a better hospital. Somewhere your body won’t hurt anymore.”
Nerouz smiled faintly. “Okay, Mama. Don’t cry. I promise I won’t talk about it again. We’ll start a new life—far away.”
Her eyes fluttered closed... and when they opened again, she was older. The years had passed, and she was remembering the night after her high school graduation—
that night on the yacht, when she first heard Daniel speaking in French. She hadn’t understood the words, but she had memorized them, carrying them in her mind for months.
By the time she agreed to marry him, it wasn’t love—it was blackmail. He had threatened to send her mother to prison. Her mother, who had already spent years running from city to city after killing her husband in a moment of despair.
Her mother never told her that truth.
Months later, Elise—the personality she used to protect herself—began studying French. It was her way of taking control again. When she finally understood the words Daniel had spoken that night, the horror resurfaced.
He was the man—the same man who had violated her as a child.
And the threats, the manipulation, the false safety—all came from him.
When she confronted her mother, trembling and furious, her mother’s voice cracked:
“No, sweetheart. That was just a dream. Daniel loves you. He wanted to marry you to protect you, Maggie. He just... he just made mistakes. If you give him a child, he’ll come back to you.”
It was a lie—the kind mothers tell when they’re drowning in fear. But for Nerouz, it was poison. She smiled weakly, let Maggie surface again, and buried her rage deep. From that day, vengeance had a name.
Her mother’s denial hadn’t erased the truth. It only exposed it. Nerouz realized then that her mother had known all along—and chosen submission over justice.
That knowledge didn’t just awaken Nerouz... it created something darker: betrayal.
Her inner voice hissed, You knew, Mama. Daniel knew. And the world knew. You let him stain my soul with your silence. But I... I will be the one to cleanse it.
Nerouz opened her eyes again, her fingers tracing the dust on her old wardrobe. Suddenly, a memory flashed—the bag.
The bag Daniel had once mentioned when threatening her mother... the “school gift bag” that had carried heroin.
“Where did it go?” she whispered.
She knew her mother hadn’t destroyed it. Fear had kept her from doing so. Instead, she must have hidden it somewhere.
Nerouz stood and walked to the old living room. The massive bookshelf loomed before her, filled with yellowing books.
Her mother’s words came back to her—the book no one ever reads.
She pulled out a heavy volume titled History of Art. It was thick, dusty, and clearly untouched for years.
Behind it, a small hidden cavity appeared.
Inside was no bag. Instead, she found a small wooden box.
She opened it. Inside lay a torn letter, a hand-drawn map of their old countryside house... and a rusted key.
Tears welled in her eyes as she recognized her mother’s handwriting for the first time in years. She unfolded the letter carefully.
---
The Letter (in her mother’s trembling hand):
> My dearest daughter — Nerouz, or Elise, or Maggie...
I have sinned against you. I chose forced marriage as the lesser evil. I lied when I said Daniel loved you. I was weak, terrified. The threat of prison for you was unbearable.
I knew he was guilty—the man who ruined your childhood. I knew he trapped you in that crime with your father. And yes, I knew you killed him that night... and I understood why.
Daniel offered me a choice: marry him to silence the case, or watch you rot in prison for murder and drug trafficking. That is why I never destroyed the bag. It is evidence—proof of Daniel’s crimes. He planned to use it against you if you ever spoke.
The video he keeps... the one showing your father’s death... it’s hidden somewhere safer now. In the old village house where we used to spend our summers. Only you and I know that place.
If one day you decide to become Nerouz again—the strong one—destroy it. Don’t avenge me, my love. Save yourself.
I’m dying, my child. The cancer has returned, and I’ve stopped taking the medicine Daniel’s doctor gave me. He never wanted Nerouz to come back.
Be strong. Let your return be your redemption.
Forgive me, my daughter.
—Your mother
---
When Nerouz finished reading, she sank to the floor, her tears falling freely. Her mother’s weakness wasn’t a crime—it was a desperate plea in the face of the monster they both knew.
Now, Nerouz understood. This wasn’t over. Daniel’s destruction had only begun.
As she gathered herself, she noticed something else in the box—a small recording device.
She pressed play.
Daniel’s voice filled the room.
> “I see you’re recovering, Mother-in-law.”
Her mother’s weary voice answered,
> “I’ll never recover, not while you still visit me.”
> “You’re crossing the line,” Daniel hissed. “Your daughter is my wife now. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my name. You know that.”
> “You can’t hide the truth forever,” her mother said weakly. “Elise is remembering. Those cold eyes... she’s remembering that night. She’s trying to protect herself. Nerouz is coming back—and when she does, it will be your end.”
Daniel’s tone hardened.
> “Nerouz? Don’t be ridiculous. That’s just madness. You’re still giving her the medication, aren’t you? Good. Because if this Nerouz ever returns, if she tries to hurt me... I’ll destroy her.
I’ll use those photos—her as a child, with that ‘gift bag’ full of heroin. The footage of her killing her father. I’ll send it all to the police.
I’ll tell them you hid the evidence. That I only married her to protect her, to take those files away. I’ll say you threatened me with my children. And then—she’ll rot in prison for life.
Your silence is her freedom. Remember that.”
The recording clicked off.
Nerouz stared into the dark, a slow, vicious smile curling her lips.
She whispered, almost tenderly,
> “So you still think you’ve won, Daniel?
You don’t know anything yet.”
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