“I know what you are.”
The words were little more than a breath. I gasped for air feeling as though I were spiraling through an endless tunnel away from Gran. We had connected this time, and she had something important to tell me. Try as I might, I could not hold on to her voice.
He spoke in a whisper, but I heard it plainly this time. The cold shadow of a voice broke through my amateur defenses without warning. They were getting stronger, getting closer to overtaking me now that I was completely off my meds.
I could’ve stayed on the medication, but I didn’t like the way it left me feeling empty inside, nothing but a walking corpse. So I’d come of the drugs gradually, and with that had come everything that they told me was not real, everything that I wanted to escape.
Tears tried to force their way out.
I refused to give in to that nagging fear that maybe I was going crazy. Images of the sterile, white hospital halls and stern faced medical staff invaded my head. Crazy would be bad, worse than bad. But the alternative was no better.
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