It’s always the worst at night. I have no idea why.
That’s when the images and sounds flood my mind. It’s as though someone made a movie and I saw only the first part. I loved the movie and wanted to see all of it. I loved it so much that I wanted to live in it, but I couldn’t.
And then someone had all the images and sounds and smells and emotions from the rest of that movie — and feeds bits and pieces of them to me at random times. It’s warm and loving images of love and family and home and everything I’ve ever wanted.
There‘s a projector on the inside of my skull — and someone plays those images. What I see teases me and torments me, but I can’t make them go away. I don‘t even know whether I want them to go away.
She’s always there. But she’s not really there.

Hidden chains need to be broken, so I’ve become a reluctant rebel
Her dad didn’t want to help her, so here’s a jack-o’-lantern for Hannah
Deputies too busy to work accidents, but have time to raid bingo halls
Briefly: Lucy celebrated her fifth ‘adoptiversary’ with me tonight
Briefly: How you treat a person in a split second can change his or her day
Briefly: U.S. government has no business attacking Iran
Briefly: Elite schools look great only because they choose best students
Briefly: Alabama debates backing away from Common Core