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couldn't be a pedophile, he's married and has two daughters. His salt and pepper hair seemed more gray than salt-ish. "Had a good breakfast, Ana?" I nodded, smiling. I wasn't going to let this bastard ruin my chance of freedom. He looked at my arm, and I stared at the ceiling. I didn't show any weakness or any emotion to what, but then he forgot about my arm, and asked me more worthless questions. "How are you feeling?" I shrugged. "Excited and a bit nervous, I guess." He nodded, jotting down words. "So why is it that you are excited or nervous about?" I wasn't about to tell this bastard about my freedom, not ever. He would've found an excuse for me to stay, since he's writing a book named "Young Illness" which is sick. It's like he's trying to find a way to observe me, like those NatGeo Wild shows, where the narrator narrates, "now we see the creature in it's natural habitat," which is like now. "I'm a bit excited because I get sleep now, this time earlier than now, and nervous because I feel a bit claustrophobic." He nodded again, writing down more notes in his filled notepad. Sick. I thought. "When did you feel 'claustrophobic', actually?" Damn it. A hard question to answer. "Ever since I noticed the walls, really. I've been here for a long time, and I forgot about the walls, but now they seem to close around me." He nodded again, and wrote down more notes. "Does it seem like a problem to you?" There it was. Now he's trying to keep me here for 'extreme' claustrophobia. "Not really, I only feel like the walls are closing in when I feel." He jotted down more notes, and asked the stupidest question ever. "How do you feel here?" I was pissed already. "I feel like I'm already better." He smiled, still not looking at me, and said "glad to hear that, Ana," then he walked out the door and the orderly locked my door again. I slept soundly that night, knowing I only had three more days. The next day, there was a rainstorm and I sat on my bed, staring out the tiny slit of a window, watching the rain pound the window and the rain pour down onto the Asylum. The clarity of the thunder was great, since I'm on the 2nd level on the building, so I'm on the top. I heard the crackle, and the lights dimmed for a minute. I heard horrified whispers and shouts, and some even screamed. After the second light dimming, the P.A was activated, and the announcer announced that due to the thunder, the lights dim so it's not a  big deal. I heard gasps of wonder from the other rooms, and chuckled quietly to myself. I heard the knock, and I straightened my bedsheets and covers. After a three second pause, Ms. Fredrick came in with Melinda. "Right now, or later?" I thought for a moment. "Later, thank you." Melinda nodded, her blonde curls bouncing again. Ms. Fredrick was almost about to burst. "Hello, Ana! We have something very special to discuss, and some visitors showed up." Miranda and her mother never visit on therapist days. Ms. Fredrick sat on the grey seat, her notepad and pen ready to write. Before she could speak, Miranda and her mother burst into the room, and they exclaimed so many things, I couldn't tell what they were saying. Ms. Fredrick hushed them, and whispered something that sounded like, "she doesn't know yet." Ms. Fredrick turned to me, and fixed her black pencil skirt. "Ana, don't scream, but there has a been a change of plans." I felt my heart sink, and I think my face showed the expression, because Ms. Fredrick was waving her hands in front of my face, saying "no, no, not that!" She calmed, and said, "you're getting out of here after this session and after your aunt fills out the papers right now. I saw Miranda's mother furiously filling out the papers while Miranda keeps encouraging her to finish up. After our session, I ws out and before I could leave, Miranda made me change in her black Converse sneakers, jeans and some band pullover that said BMTH. But, after my aunt/new mother filled out the extra papers, I saw Mr. Brown, and his expression devious, evil and grim. Imprint

Publication Date: 05-18-2015

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