The last time she'd seen pink butterflies, she'd burned down the church.

She told them the headphones helped with the hallucinations.

She lied.

Dr. Weber had first suggested the headphones, and he'd told her to compile a playlist and to choose the songs based on certain lyrics and words, and to use those lyrics and words as cues to control the hallucinations. If she couldn't completely erase them now, she could at least learn how to hold them back, get that subconscious moving until the scary ones became mildly disturbing and then from there they would lower in degree until they became mildly annoying distractions. From there, well, she could begin to forget them perhaps.

You can't forget these things, she thought. She would never want to, but the advice and the headphones were a blessing because it was easier to make everyone else believe she'd forgotten them.

Out with Dr. Weber. He believed the scenery was a reward for her newfound piece.

"What do you see now?" He asked with a smile.

"Pink butterflies," she replied, and before he could stop her, she threw the lighter at him.