despite what they say im not crazy. I am not dumb, I know what has been done. Yes I see the damage, you dont need to tell me. I think you are crazy. Crazy for not fighting harder for what you care about, for not understanding the simple truth. Yes that I am crazy, crazy in love. Im not mentally challlenged I tell them, I have trust issues and I put my faith into the wrong hand ands thats ok because it is mine to give and his to take. So please dont call me crazy when you dont know the feeling AI am having, when you dont knwo true love.

My name is Knathaniel, although my friends call me Ethan.

Well, as in FRIENDS, I mean FRIEND. As in FRIEND, I mean DEBORAH.

She’s the only one of my classmates who doesn’t mind sitting with me at lunchtime.

People say I’m autistic, or that I’m going crazy. I’ve heard that I have an overactive imagination, and that I’m just plain weird. Yeah, I hear voices in my head; some are high, some are low. And, sometimes, my ears will stop working and get lost in the soundtrack of my mind. Occasionally my eyes will shut from the inside to watch movies constructed of altered events of my day, but I’m a sixteen-year-old highschooler. Isn’t all that stuff normal? I just have a different perspective than most kids, but, then again, I live in a town where everyone has their own odd tendencies. I may or may not have told anyone about the strange stuff I see going on everyday, and they may or may not have believed me. I may or may not have fallen into a black hole, and I may or may not have seen my homework get abducted by aliens. I feel that I just don’t fit in sometimes. Maybe I really am going crazy.

She dresses haphazardly, dress wrong side out, hose twisted, shoes run-over. She hates her daughters and praises her sons, who are all no good and have been or still are in jail. She is full of threats against her daughters. Especially the threat of having their children taken away because she has denounced them as unfit mothers. Her youngest daughter receives the bulk of her venom. The young girl was unfortunate enough to have no place else to go except to her mother’s house. She also made the mistake of becoming pregnant and had no husband. The mother constantly scolded the girl for this. “You’re just a whore!” she shouted. “Your baby’s daddy is in jail. He’s no good. You’ve ruined your life!” She ranted like this daily.

When her daughter gave birth to a baby girl, she was the perfect grandmother, at first. Later, she began criticizing her daughter about the manner in which she was raising the girl. “You’re not taking care of your daughter! You’re not fit to be a mother!” She began threatening to throw the girl out into the streets. “Then what are you going to do? Be a whore on the street? That’s what you are anyway. A whore!”

Once when her daughter came home, she had set all of her belongings out on the porch. “I want you out of here,” she slung venomously.

Her children got together and had her put back into the mental institution. They would only keep her six months at a time. She was always on good behavior when she was there. At least most of the time.

When she got out again, her daughter moved from the house. “I don’t want her here anyway,” she stated. “I don’t want any of this furniture in here either. I don’t need anybody. My sons are going to come here when they get out. That’s what I want.” She rambled on about the mafia, how she could have someone killed if she wanted to.

©2019 RosalinM

I’m not crazy. Not crazy. Not crazy. Not crazy. I repeat that to myself at least ten more times, until I am convinced. I’m not crazy. Now the trouble is convincing everyone else.

“Lilly. Are you ready to go, honey?” Mom tiptoes into my room, adopting the same air she’s been using whenever she encounters me. It’s like I’m so fragile, made of glass, and one misstep will make me shatter into a million pieces.

“Mom. I don’t need to go see stupid therapist Dr. Allard, I’m fine. Fine, fine, fine!” I glare at her. “Go ask Milton! He’ll tell you. I’m fine.”

“Who’s Milton?” Mom asks, concern etched in her features.

“My best friend, oh my GOD, Mom!” Mom looks like she’s been slapped in the face. “Stop pretending he DOESN’T EXIST.” Mom looks at me patronizingly.

“Oh honey, I thought you had finished pretending about Milton,” she says in her condescending I-am-an-adult-and-you-are-clearly-insane voice.

Something inside me snaps, and the voices start up again.

...She used to care about you…

...your own mother doesn’t believe you…

...what’s the point in trying?...

...you’ll never make it…

...it’s your fault it happened…

...now look what you’ve done...

...you’re worthless

worthless

worthless.

My stomach clenches.

“Stop it! Go away.” I slap my head. “Get out, get out, get OUT!” Mom stares at me.

“Sweetheart?” Mom says questioningly.

“SHUT UP!” I roar, and the voices shift.

...she can’t even help you…

...why are you letting her treat you like this…

...stupid

stupid

stupid

“Lilly, darling. What’s wrong?”

“YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND AND YOU NEVER WILL! GET OUT!” I don’t know if I’m talking to Mom or the voices in my head. I don’t even know if Mom is talking. Maybe it’s just the echo in my brain that I can’t erase. Taken aback, Mom stumbles backwards, but doesn’t leave. I crawl into a corner, rocking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think. I repeat. Mom cautiously takes a step toward me.

“GET AWAY, DON’T TOUCH ME!” She leaps back.

“Honey, let me help,” Mom pleads, tentatively inching forward.

“I. SAID. NO! YOU CAN’T FUCKING BRING HIM BACK! YOU CAN’T FUCKING HELP ME! IF YOU THINK YOU CAN THAN YOU’RE THE CRAZY ONE!” Mom flinches, and finally nods. Tears glisten in her eyes.

“Lilly, you need help. And I can’t force you. But unless you make this choice, things aren’t going to get any better,” Mom whispers, backing out of the room. Once she leaves, I start pacing. To the shelf and back. To the shelf and back. Mindless repetition to help me think. Or not think. I have to think about not thinking because thinking is too much right now. The voices. The voices will come back. As soon as the thought occurs to me, they fill my head.

...you’re responsible…

...the whole world blames you…

...Milton blames you...

...it’s your fault…

My fault.

My fault.

My fault.

The words echo in my head.

“GET OUT!” I unleash a bloodcurdling scream and hurl myself at the wall, crashing headlong into it and crumpling to the floor.

“Lilly!” Mom is upstairs in a flash, but the world goes black before I can process anything.

When my eyes blink open again, a concerned Mom and Dr. Allard hover over me, creepily staring to see when I open my eyes. So naturally, the first words out of my mouth are, “Why are you watching me?”

“We needed to make sure you were okay,” Dr. Allard explains. “When you came in contact with the wall, a slight contusion occurred on your forehead which might have led to worse complications. Additionally, with your current precarious state, it was important that you have an appointment regardless.” Her tendency to sound like she swallowed a textbook hasn’t changed in the slightest.

“My current ‘precarious state’? What do you mean? I’m NOT crazy,” I say hotly.

No one believes me. No one believes me. They think I’m CRAZY. How absurd. Absurd.

“We aren’t saying that,” Dr. Allard says, sharing a glance with my mother.

“What do you mean, you aren’t saying that? Of course you are! You think that I don’t realize it? You think I’m going insane. But maybe you’re all the ones who are really crazy. Maybe you need mental hospitals. You need to be locked up.” I stand up on my bed, backing into the wall, panting hard.

“Lilly, just calm down. We can help you,” Dr. Allard soothes.

“NO! YOU CAN’T FUCKING HELP ME! JUST ASK MILTON! HE KNOWS!” Mom stares at me, as if I’ve completely transformed. I’m no longer her daughter, I’m just some patient she has to treat.

...she thinks you’re crazy…

...maybe you are crazy…

...maybe you’re going crazy and you don’t even know it…

...maybe this is how you’re going to die.

“Nononononononono. Nonononononono.” I curl up in the bed. Mom stares at me, her face turning an ugly shade of red.

“Why don’t you get it, Lilly? What could you possibly not understand? MILTON. IS. DEAD. Why can’t you just move on and face the facts? Then we can get on with treatment and I’ll get my DAUGTHER back!” Mom’s words feel like a slap in the face. As soon as they leave her mouth, she seems to realize what she’s said. She covers her mouth, tears spilling down her face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she whispers. Dr. Allard guides her out of the room.

“I need to speak with Lilly. You might not be the best equipped to be here right now,” Dr. Allard says soothingly, pushing Mom gently out the door. When she returns, she perches on the edge of my bed.

“I’m going to ask you a couple questions.” I nod, breathing heavily. “Can you tell me your name?” I roll my eyes.

“Lilly.”

“Age?”

“Fifteen.”

“School?”

“Is this really necessary?” Dr. Allard sighs.

“Fine, Lilly. What are your friend’s names?” She asks.

“Milton,” I respond dubiously. “What is the point of this?”

“You are deluding yourself, Lilly. I’m trying to break this to you as gently as possible, but Milton passed away. You know that he overdosed, correct?”

“No, he didn’t. HE DIDN’T. You’re just lying because that’s the cruel persosn that you are. If you actually CARED, you’d tell me the truth. Milton will be here any minute, then he can show you.”

“Lilly. You have to admit the truth. I can’t help you unless you do.”

But then I have to admit that it’s my fault.

I have to admit that I didn’t stop him.

That I when he fucking stumbled up to me, the drugs were already in his system.

That I didn’t help my friend when he needed me most.

I turned him away

he stood on the doorstep alone.

Then I have to tell her that I found his body

Hours later

Crumpled on our doormat.

Then I have to say that when I checked my phone

Milton left me a final message.

I know that I’ve been acting shitty these past months. But I’m sorry, Lilly. Please, I need you. I-I don’t know what to do. It’s too much. Everything is too much.

His voice cracked when he said please.

Milton never begs.

He’s too proud.

But he did

His final moments,

He begged me to help him.

Yet my final words were

“Get out of my sight.”

I can’t tell her that.

It’s easier to pretend he’s still alive.

To pretend that I’m not going crazy.

To pretend that I’m normal.

Just like everybody else.

“Lilly? Can you tell me what’s going on?” Dr. Allard shakes me out of my memories. Her gentleness suddenly reminds me of Milton. I burst into tears.

“I killed him. It’s m-my fault!” I sob. She manages to get the story out of me, gently coaxing me to tell her. Then she announces that she needs to talk to Mom.

“I have several ideas for diagnosis,” Dr. Allard says to Mom. She rattles off several disorders to complicated to pronounce. My stomach churns.

...they still think you’re crazy…

...she doesn’t want to help you…

...why would she help you…

...you’re just another failed experiment…

...she was never going to fix you…

...you’re too broken…

I’m not crazy. But the words have less conviction. I can’t be crazy. But somehow I wonder if I am. No. I’m fine. Not crazy. Not crazy. Dr. Allard, Mom, they don’t know what they’re talking about.

I try to denounce my insanity.

But with every repetition,

The word ‘fine’

loses potency.

My stomach churns

As I try to tell myself that I’m fine.

Something deep inside me stirs.

What if I’m never ‘fine’ again?

I took the knife from the glovebox. It was one I bought at a shop in deep Texas. It could prepare a deer for dinner. Nasty knife, it was a weapon illegal to have in a car. I didn't care. I carried it for survival. I took the knife out as I drove down the road. I was only one mile from home. I flipped it open. I slowed my car. I plunged it into the carton of beer.

“Maura, you’ve got to stop this!” Her husband pleaded with her, “ I understand your anger towards Abby but you’ve gone too far.” Maura glared at Jim, “I haven’t gone far enough, she must be totally destroyed for what she’s done. She deserves everything I’ve given to her.” Jim sighs in exasperation, “I think Abby has learned her lesson, she has apologized several times but you still won’t let up in your attacks. She made a mistake, she feels bad, she’s only human.” She turns her back in anger, “You just don’t understand! She’s a liar. I’m pretty sure she lied about her so-called Master’s degree. She’s lied about dieting, she’d sneak in the bathroom to drink her diet shakes and then binge on junk food later. She didn’t show any sympathy at all about my diabetes. When I tried to talk about something serious, she’d just smile at me in that patronizing way.” Jim grabs Maura by the shoulders, “Can’t you see? This obsession with Abby is unhealthy. Your other friends say that you’ve gone too far in smearing Abby’s reputation and if you submit this blog post, it will destroy her. Think about what you’re doing!” He looks deep into his wife’s eyes. He barely recognizes in her hate-filled vengeance, “Even Dr. Wilson is wondering if you are narcissistic and need medication. Just stop for a minute.” Maura gives Jim a searching glance, walks over to the computer, reads her blog post one last time, and presses “Submit.” Jim sighs, “I’m sorry, you are not the woman I married. Until you get over this irrational hate, I don’t think I can be with you. This vindictiveness towards Abby has become more important than our marriage, the children, your friends, and you even lost your job. You need help. Why can’t you admit it?” Maura glares at Jim, “I’m not crazy. Abby is a poor excuse of a human being and I won’t stop until everyone sees that I’m right.”

In the behavioral aspect, I am Cinderella’s glass slipper so to speak: social isolation, disorganized behavior, excitability, aggression, agitation, compulsive behavior, hostility, repetitive movements, and lack of restraint. Cognitively speaking: thought disorder, belief that an ordinary event has special and personal meaning, slowness in activity, or false belief of superiority. In terms of mood: anger, anxiety, apathy (lack of feeling or emotion), feeling detached from self, general discontent, loss of interest or pleasure in activities, elevated mood, or inappropriate emotional response. Speech: circumstantial speech, incoherent speech, rapid and frenzied speaking, or speech disorder. All of these symptoms describe to a “T” exactly what I’ve been enduring the past two and a half years. Not so much unforeseen, because if I would have known the exact symptoms I could have possibly caught on a lot earlier. My trigger was the devastating loss of my childhood home. Then came the loss of my first love, and finally my loss in humanity (including myself). There it turned into an dependence on drugs in order to detach myself from reality. I then came to realize I was losing myself, so I tried to turn to college as my savior. Which, unfortunately proved that the damage was already done. It showed that I had completely disconnected myself with reality, and even though I tried as hard as I could to assimilate back into society it was too late. I tried to blame my drug addiction, and my family for what was happening when in all reality I was just lost in a delusion. I had been trying to figure out what was wrong with me this whole time, convincing myself that it was all of these other problems that had nothing to do with me. Essentially, casting the blame on all of the people that were around me and only trying to help. Realistically, it was a whole life’s worth of stimuli. My delusion was that all of my hardships were because I was meant for a greater purpose, really they were just a catalyst for a de-habilitating mental disease that is hereditary. Something that was probably inevitable with time, but was jumpstarted by a whole bunch of situations that I had no control over. I was a kid! Statistically at a loss from the very beginning. No matter what kind of outlook I had, no matter what choices I would have made to better myself. This genetic Trojan horse called schizophrenia would eventually have found a way to creep in and destroy everything I would’ve potentially done. Be it by becoming a better person through sports, education, family, religion, or whichever activities I would have done to put all of my problems behind me. No matter the scenario, the outcome will always end with schizophrenia! The timing, honestly, could not have been more satirically perfect. I finally had this epiphany detailing what life was about, well actually I was just finally giving into to the thoughts I had been keeping to myself, and beginning to express them on to others. Which was not a epiphany, was not a sudden understanding of life, was not a moment of divination, and was definitely not a turning point; it was a psychosis. I thought that I had figured out how to escape this reality which was just some sort of test to better myself, when I had really taken a long leap toward tragedy. Immediately waking from a dream, that felt like an entire life spent in someone else’s shoes, only to be in the same place the dream started forty-five minutes ago. Still, how do I manage to have such vivid memories of this version of myself‘s life?

What do you mean I'm crazy? I'm not, I'm not, I swear. How could it be considered crazy to love him? Ahahahahaha. Are you jealous? Is it because you want him too? He's mine. MINE! Sure, sure, give me more medicine. It won't change what we have. We have nothing, you say? Oh, how wrong you are. You all just don't see it yet. Hahahah... I'll show you. I'll show him. He has to love me. Shut up. SHUT UP! He does. HE LOVES ME. NONE OF YOU UNDERSTAND.

hahaha..

Ahahahahaha...

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...

WHY DON'T I JUST GET RID OF YOU THEN?

THEN WE WON'T HAVE ANYONE BETWEEN US...

ahahahah...

I love you, I really do...

But I love him more...

.

.

.

.

Huh... I didn't know someone could bleed that much...

...oh well..

Now there's no one left between us, my dear..

Now we can be together..

forever..

and always...

“It’s her!!” They yelled as I walked toward the village I called home.

“Get away, you demon!!” They yelled as I stepped closer and closer to the edge of the village.

“What am I to you guys?” I asked as I hit the forcefield around the village.

“You are crazy! Maybe, even insane!” An old man said as he looked at me.

My eyes twitched and into a full out rampage. I destroyed homes, lives and statues of ones that I used to love. I’m sorry I get a little ahead of myself when I tell stories. It all started when I was a hatchling. I was found and raised by the Elves of the North. They set me free from my egg and I took my first breath. They raised me and my brother. Years passed, as I noticed behaviors that were normal for them seem off. This world Arabis, my brother, and I live in is... weird. I sneezed and star dust came out. I watched it float to the ground and I squealed. I stood up off the slab of rock and walked over to an elf we called Mama Helga.

“Mama Helga!! Mama Helga!! I sneezed and I think I understand what I am to be!” I yelled as walked into the kitchen to see Arabis holding a ball of light.

“I am so proud of you, Arabis. One day, you shall be known as a protector of this world.” Mama Helga said as she smiled at Arabis.

“Hello, Dark One. Sleep well? You look like a deer staring at something dangerous. What do you want?” Arabis asked with a tease.

“Leave me alone, asshole!!” I snarled as night came quicker than normal.

My body shifted and changed into a Draginocous. I ran to my room and slammed the door. I started crying as I sat on my bed and looked at my claws.

“Can I come in, Dark one?” Arabis asked as he knocked on my door.

“N... No. Go away!!” I snarled as he opened the door.

“I was just teasing, sister. I didn’t mean anything by it.” He said as he walked over to me.

“Follow me, please.” I said as I hopped off the bed and the sun started to rise again.

We walked over to Mama Helga and Father Dezzy. We sat down in front of them and they noticed us after a couple of minutes.

“What is it, dear ones? Did you two have troubling Night Terrors?” Father Dezzy asked as he stood up and smiled at us.

“Yes, dear kiddos. What is the trouble?” Mama Helga asked.

“How can you praise him more than me? Is it as simple as, you two see me as Night and him Day? Tell me the answer.” I asked angrily.

“What? We praise you as much as we praise him.” Father Dezzy said as he looked away from me.

“So, it is that!! I knew it. Ha... Haha... Hahahahahahahahahahahaha!!” I said then laughed as I looked at Father Dezzy.

″Are you alright, sister?” Arabis asked as he touched my shoulder.

I looked around and saw a knife nearby on the kitchen table. I walked over to it and picked it up. I smiled as I spun the knife in between my hands as I walked slowly toward them. Father Dezzy and Mama Helga watched me as I got closer and closer. I swung at Father Dezzy and it sliced his arm. The fresh cut started to seep blood and I swung again but Father Dezzy blocked my attack with his arms.

“Why are you doing this, Star Light the Insane?” Father Dezzy asked as he held my wrist that had the knife.

“I have to. It is the right thing to do.” I said as smiled and kicked him backwards.

It made him let go of my wrist as he step backwards a few steps. This was my chance to make things right. I laughed and stabbed Father Dezzy not once, not twice but 4 times. My arms splattered with blood and all over the knife. I held my head to the left and turned around to look at Mama Helga. I started walking toward her as she screamed. I stabbed her immediately in the leg. She stopped screaming and she started crying as she asked me a simple question.

“Why? Why? Why?” She asked in between her sobs.

Then, there was pounding at the door and yelling. They finally busted through the door and they pointed guns at me. I held Mama Helga and Arabis hostage.

“Let them go, Star Light!!” Chief Heath said as he looked atraight at me.

“Why should I let them go? I have already killed one. They liked my brother better than me!!” I asked with a snarl as I put the knife to Mama Helga’s throat.

“Drop that knife, Star Light. You are delusional. Just drop the knife and all will be well.” He said as he stepped closer.

I sliced Mama Helga’s neck and she dropped to floor as the blood rushed from her wound. I dropped the knife and started laughing. They tackled me and put cuffs on my wrists. They stood me up and walked me out as an ambulance appeared right outside the door. Chief Heath got in on the driver side. He drove the car to the prison which was a 12 hour drive and stopped at a gate.

“What is this place?” I asked as I realized what I did not long ago.

“This is The Penitentiary for Hybrids that commit serious crimes like what you did.” He said as the gate opened and he drove the car through.

“Please, let me go. I... I won’t do it again.” I said as I watched the gate close behind us.

“You murdered Dezzy Heldorat and who you call Mama Helga is in serious condition. There is no other place for you.” He said as he parked the car and got out of the car.

I laid on my back and kicked the passenger back window until it shattered. I climbed out and took off running. I opened my wings and started to fly upwards when I stopped moving upwards. I looked down to see an inmate in pink and another nearby in orange. She yanked me down and I landed on my belly as the one in orange grabbed my wings and tied them together. I fought them until I saw Chief Heath’s boots. He grabbed me and thanked the two inmates.

“Ugh!! I hate hybrids like you!!” He said as we walked into a building and he threw me forward.

“What? Escapees like me? I will find a way to escape this place. Just you wait.” I said as i bowed up to him.

He pushed me backwards and had some women inmates change my clothing. I recognized one of them as the one that yanked me down. I pushed her backwards and into a wall. I slipped on a slippery spot in the shower and fell face first onto the floor. It knocked the breath out of me.

“Take it easy, psycho.” The one in pink said as she walked away from the wall and stood me up.

“Back off, punk!!” I snarled as they finished putting black clothing with red lining and a metal collar on me.

We walked out and he put me in a cell. I stayed there for a few years before they would “let” anyone visit me. They took me to the visitor’s area and I saw Arabis.

“Didn’t you come to see me, dear Brother of the Light?” I asked as my eyes lit up.

“Back off, sister. I came to bring the news to you about Mama Helga.” He snarled at me.

“What about that stupid bitch?” I asked as we sat down at a table.

“After you sliced her throat, she held onto life for another 3 hours. Then, she died and you ended up here. How much longer will you be here for?” He said as he looked at me with sincerity in his eyes.

“I don’t care about her. Go away, brother.” I snarled as I stood up and tapped a cage door.

He stood up and watched me.

Before I left the room, I said, “I will be in here for another 100 years for killing officers and inmates for fun.”

He watched me walk away and he left after I was out of his sight. For next 100 years, same routine, same food, same old, same old!! Finally, the day I leave arrived and I walked out like I was normal. I knew I wasn’t insane, but they kept saying I was. It’s alright. I gathered my weaponry from the house I grew up in and took off toward the village nearby. That is where my story of Insanity started from there on. Now where was I? Oh, yes. I remember now.

“It’s her!!” They yelled as I walked toward the village I called home.

“Get away, you demon!!” They yelled as I stepped closer and closer to the edge of the village.

“What am I to you guys?” I asked as I hit the forcefield around the village.

“You are crazy! Maybe, even insane!” An old man said as he looked at me.

My eyes twitched and into a full out rampage. I destroyed homes, lives and statues of ones that I used to love. I grabbed a single doll and stroked it’s lavender colored short hair.

“You are next, my dear Iris!!” I snarled as I walked away with the flames behind me.

3 Years Later

I sigh as I walk into my school.

It was the best Junior High in all of Eva.

I was so glad my mother, Queen Evedia, let me come hear.

I met up with my friends from Eva Elementry, the best and only elementry private school in the land.

“How was your first day?” Lili asked.

“It was great,” I said simply. “Sixth grade is perfect, I love it! And, I’m so glad I go to Joha Junior High. You know what my mother says, best Middle School ever!”

Instead of laughing and complementing her mother, like they always did, Sinnah, Lili and Dahali just gave me a quizical stare.

Dahali spoke to me, ignoring the nudges from the others. “You mean Lia Middle School?” She spoke sassily.

“That’s what I said,” I responded blankly. I mean, it was what I said.

“Right,” Sinnah sighed. “Well, we gotta use the restroom.”

“Bye,” Lili said.

“All of you?” was all I could say.

Hmmph.

They wern’t such good friends after all.

Before I could start my pity party, I was interupted.

“Hey Imil,” a soft voice said.

I spun around to see the school councilor.

“Hi Miss Dista,” I told her. “What do you need?”

“It’s Mrs. Tisty,” Mrs. Tisty told me, and added under her breath “This is worse than I thought!”

“But... that’s what I said,” I responded, astonished as she walked away.

What was going on?

***

“Hey mom,” I called once I got home. “How was your day?”

Knowing she might be grumpy, but expecting her charming voice, I was disapointed when she let her anger show.

“Mom? MOM?” She roared. “It’s mother! If you were to call me that in public- oh, Imil! You know we have to be formal!”

“I called you mother,” I wimpered, distressed. Was everyone going crazy?

“Er... Imil,” my mother spoke again, more quietly. “Your due for a check-up with Dr. Keia.”

***

The docter’s was worse.

“Hi, Lemii, what are you doing here?” I asked Lemii.

He looked so srtange in his white suit, muscles bulging through it, and long hair folded onto his head- you couldn’t even see the lenght.

“Uh... I’m Dr. Keia,” he responded.

“That’s what I said!” I exlaimed.

Then I blacked out.

***

I was cooped up in my room for days, and something seemed wrong.

I could feel hard metal on the floor, and the walls had iron bars.

Sometimes my vision would swirl, and I could see a dungeon cell.

Maybe I was crazy!

I began to think that, until I remembered everything.

To Be Continued