“What makes you think you’re crazy?” she asked.
“I don’t recognize you; I don’t recognize my own school. I got the date totally wrong. I think – I might have imagined my friends,” I added, my stomach dropping like it would going down a long hill on a roller coaster. Had I done that? Were Daron and Sherilee figments of my imagination?
“Anything else?” she asked, scribbling on a legal pad.
Wasn’t that enough? “No…at least, I don’t think so. I might have more later. Oh, I’m sitting with a psychiatrist – that’s pretty crazy.”
That made her smile. I looked out the window. Bereft. That’s how I felt…funny how that word came to mind, a word I only used in English class.