"Tell me what you did. Tell me what you did yesterday."
She was at the bottom of the stairs in her own house. She was alone, but she knew she wasn't. The lights were off and it was dark.
"I was home. There was nobody there, except him."
She put her foot on the first step, and slowly pulled herself up. When she reached the second floor, she put her hand on the railing to steady herself.
"I felt like I was going to pass out. It was because of him."
She walked into her bedroom, looking nonchalant though there were hints of agony on her face. She sits on the bed before heaving the rest of her onto it and lying down.
"He was the bravest one. I could feel him tugging at the blankets, like he was under the bed."
Still lying down, she doesn't move. A bottle of pills lies on the end table, over turned.
"I knew he wasn't there, but he usually is."
She stares straight ahead at the violet wall ahead when suddenly her hand reaches out to grab the bottle.
"He's never going away, yet he's already gone."
Morning, and she's still lying there. She hasn't moved.
"I was so scared. But it's over"
"You did very well."
"I really hope so."
"I'll call you when I have the report."
"Thank you, doctor."