Chapter 7

“Tell me how often you have forgotten recent events, Abby.”

I hear Dr. Conway's voice, but I'm not sure if he's really around. It's as if everything is too far away compared to what happens in my own head. As if seeing that man I accidentally called his father out loud, had triggered some memory too painful for me to endure alone, without wanting to close myself in an imaginary cocoon.

I don't remember sitting, although I feel the soft leather sink under my weight. I don't remember seeing Dr. Conway recover his notebook and start asking me questions, which is exactly what happens now. I don't know how many of them I didn't answer. I also don't know exactly why I'm still sitting, while inside my demons stir and demand that I let them out.

My chest is compressed by anger and my vision narrows, almost as if I were seeing through a cone. Everything seems too slow. The sounds, the colors, the shapes. I can't move, talk, much less form some kind of phrase that serves as