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Nillium Neems

Enter the world of Nillium Neems, a schizophrenic patient living in the Atrium Psychiatric Ward. But is her diagnosis a true one? Nil isn’t so sure—surely the creatures she speaks to every day can’t just be in her head. And then there’s the doctors who torture her day and night—is there abuse really for her own good? Or is she the only one who sees things as they truly are?

Age Rating: 18+


Nillium Neems by Francisco Jose Ruiz is now available to read on the Galatea app! Read the first two chapters below, or download Galatea for the full experience.



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Enter the world of Nillium Neems, a schizophrenic patient living in the Atrium Psychiatric Ward. But is her diagnosis a true one? Nil isn't so sure—surely the creatures she speaks to every day can't just be in her head. And then there's the doctors who torture her day and night—is there abuse really for her own good? Or is she the only one who sees things as they truly are?

Age Rating: 18+

Original Author: Francisco Jose Ruiz

Hi! My name is Nillium Neems. Doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, does it?

I know it doesn’t for me. If it had been my choice, I would have been named something cool like Sasha or Tanya. Something exotic.

But, I guess that’s parents for you. They just have no idea what kind of name a girl really wants. They always settle for something lame, or at best, average.

Not that I ever knew my parents that well. I’ve been in and out of mental institutions since I was four years old.

Mainly ‘in’ since the brief periods of ‘out’ consisted of me being released, celebrating my freedom, and then doing something crazy to get right back in again.

Oftentimes before I’d even left the institution grounds.

Never was it my parents who came to pick me up either. They gave up on me by the third time I’d been committed and had by all accounts, officially disowned me.

Every time I’ve been released since, which are becoming fewer and fewer, it’s either been some state-provided caretaker who has come to get me, some would-be foster parent, or no one at all.

The doctors at the ward, or as I call it, Home, have actually been so callous as to lead me to the exit, wish me good luck in a weary voice with a shake of their head, and then walk off.

Leaving it to humble little me to find my own means of transportation, not to mention somewhere to stay.

So here I am, twenty years old if memory serves me correctly, which is doubtful, and I’ve spent most of my life inside of Atrium Psychiatric Ward. Yay…

I’ve learned the system inside out, been subjected to more drugs and forms of ‘treatment’ than I would care to count, and am probably damaged beyond repair.

Not that I wasn’t to begin with, since there’s obviously something very wrong with me to have been put here in the first place.

Although, that brings me to the odd bit in my little introduction. I really have no idea why I’m here…

They say I’m crazy, but I don’t really know why. Supposedly I have schizophrenia, because of all the things I claim to see, but I know they’re real.

I know what I saw, and that’s the end of it as far as I’m concerned, even if I did kill that man. Well, more than one man, but they weren’t really men at all. But enough of that line of thought, let me get back to the main point.

The reason I’m writing this is because I’m lonely.

I have no friends here since they don’t like us interacting with each other, and the few people (I use that term loosely!) that I am allowed to interact with, I find great difficulty in trusting.

Out of everyone I have ever met, there is not one that I place any faith in I’m afraid.

So I’m writing this account, call it a journal if you will, just so that I have someone to talk to about everything.

I don’t care who you are, chances are that no one will ever even read this, but I just really… need someone to talk to.

It helps soothe my spirits to write this stuff down. I have to hide it from the doctors, of course, haha, or else they’d think I was even more of a loon than they already do.

God, I hope they don’t ever throw this away. If there is a God anyways. I’ve certainly never seen Him do much for me!

Nil out. I’ll write again tomorrow with any luck.


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Forgot to mention in my last entry. Please call me Nil. Nillium is simply unbearable, and Nil is at least acceptable, albeit, barely.

Anyways, now for an account of how my day has gone. With any luck, yours has gone better…

An orderly shook me awake around 7:00 AM, telling me it was time to be escorted down to the breakfast hall. I must have been inadvertently behaving myself, for it had been a while since I was actually allowed out of my room.

Nevertheless, I was rather fond of sleep and didn’t feel much like budging. With an angry grunt, the orderly grabbed me by the scruff of my hospital gown, forcibly hauled me off the bed, and threw me against the wall.

Have I mentioned yet how much fun life is here at the ward?

I was used to this rough kind of treatment and rolled with the punches as you might say, twisting my body as I hit the wall to catch myself with my arms. It mostly worked, though I would have a bruise the next day for sure.

I got sullenly to my feet and stared at him. I recognized today’s tormentor as Copley, a not overly bright man, whose only real love in life seemed to be the salty pretzels that he always carried around in a small Ziploc baggy.

“Breakfast,” he said flatly, his voice jagged. “Move.”

With a weary sigh, I turned on my heel and walked through the open door to my room, making my way down the hall.

Copley followed closely on my heels the whole way, probably looking for a reason to push or hit me. Don’t get me wrong, not all of the orderlies were, um, jerks. Some of them were decent enough people. Just… not Copley.

We made it to the breakfast hall without further incident, and thankfully, Copley remained standing at the door.

The room was well supervised enough that he wasn’t required to follow me in, giving me at least a tiny measure of freedom. I could sit where I wanted, even talk to the other patients as I pleased, assuming I didn’t get too rowdy.

I sat across from Jeremy. He’s an alright guy, kind of a thin, frail sort, who tends to shiver as if in the cold. But at least he’s not one of the Monsters.

“What’s for breakfast?” I asked him brightly, peering into the metal bowl in front of him.

“…Oatmeal?” Jeremy replied, as if making his best guess at a hard question, afraid of getting it wrong. Poor Jeremy didn’t like questions. They stressed him out.

I frowned as an orderly placed an identical bowl of food in front of me, studying its contents suspiciously. Jeremy stopped eating, waiting for my assessment of our meal.

He always placed a great deal of value on my opinion. Who knows why, he just did.

“There are bugs in it,” I said at last, pushing my food away in disgust.

“I-I d-don’t see any,” he replied, his expression narrowing in alarm.

“There’s a lot of them,” I expounded. “You’ve probably already eaten some.”

Jeremy looked at his food, looked at me, back to his food, and screamed. He fell out of his chair in his haste to flee, scrambled to his feet, and made his panicked way out of the room.

I hadn’t meant to scare him. I just had that tendency.

A rather skinny orderly hurried over to me, drawing the small baton that all of them were armed with and brandishing it threateningly.

“Nillium Neems,” he said roughly, stopping less than a foot from me. “Are you causing trouble again?”

I opened my mouth to make some kind of snarky comment, but then closed it promptly in horror. He was no orderly. He was one of the Monsters…

“I… I’m not causing any trouble,” I whispered quietly. I gave a small, involuntary shudder. The Monster noticed and I know he liked seeing my fear.

He grunted, satisfied with my reaction, and turned his back to go terrify someone else. Well, I didn’t have much choice now…

I owed it to my own sanity and to the safety of every other patient in Atrium to stop him and his kind. Otherwise, they would terrify us without end. I’d already killed a few of them in my time.

Sure that he was no longer paying attention to me, but before he could take more than a few steps away, I grabbed my plastic fork and snapped it in half against the table. They didn’t let us have metal cutlery for obvious reasons.

But that didn’t matter so much when you knew how to snap plastic ones at the right angle to give them a sharp point.

On silent feet, I took a running leap, bringing my arm around in an arc to stab him right through the carotid artery in his neck. I’d had practice, so I knew right where to aim.

But I didn’t stop there, oh no! For I had practice too in not getting caught.

I rolled as I hit the ground, dropping my weapon and tumbling right under the nearest table. I crawled from there till I was at a sufficiently safe distance not to become suspect.

A cry rang out a moment later as people began to take notice. Wardens, the main security force of the ward and a step up from an orderly, rushed in.

I felt very thankful at that moment that I was already on the ground, for they began indiscriminately clubbing anyone that was standing who stood in their path.

Someone’s hand reached down and hauled me to my feet, dragging me towards the door. I didn’t struggle, for I knew it wouldn’t do me any good.

I just let the man take me back to my cell, where he shoved me through the door and slammed it behind me, scurrying off to go do the same to the other patients.

I let out a sigh of relief that it was over. At least the man who’d grabbed me hadn’t been another monster. The creatures infested the ward to its very core.

So all in all, my day was sort of a good one. I’d killed another monster, reducing their numbers ever so slightly, but now we were all on lockdown. Probably for a good few days.

Guess it means I have more time to write to you, my Bookish Friend!


Nil Out (In several days after lockdown is lifted, haha)


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