Love Lost Page 9

  “Yes they can hear every word you’re saying.”

  I take my face out the pillow and sit up in my psych ward bed and look at my roommate pull her hair out. I envy how she doesn’t know she’s crazy; I wish I had that freedom. But I’m stuck dealing with several identities and small case of schizophrenia. At least my pregnancy was in my head because I would’ve seriously messed up those babies lives. Now it’s back to eating rice pudding and playing checkers with a man who acts like a six year old. I take my hands across my plush sweatpants my mom brought me just to feel the realness to know this isn’t a dream. Instead my psychosis and identities are reality.