Bo is schizophrenic. That means: she hears voices. She sees things no one else sees. But what's real and what's not real?
And how can she tell the difference?


1. Splinters

"I feel like the memories in that house were like splinters, Bo. We just couldn't stay there. I had to take out the splinter." I stared out the window, not answering my older brother Landon. He was taking me away from my house.. That wasn't very nice of him.

"But mom and dad were there." I whispered. He sighed.

"No, they weren't." He said they weren't real. And sometimes I believed him.

But not today. Today I was convinced that we had left them behind and that it was his fault, because I wanted to blame someone and couldn't afford blaming myself.

He said I had schizophrenia. He said a lot of things. Like that mom and dad died. But that couldn't have been true.

"I want to go back," I told him. He didn't say anything, he just kept driving. I sighed and looked out the window, pressing my face against the cool glass. Fog from my breathe spread across it and I drew a stickman. I laughed and looked over at Landon as if to say 'see?'. He just smiled. I don't think he actually looked at it.

Our little green car seemed really small compared to the house. The house was big- and old. It looked like my grandfather in some ways. Kind of rotted and beaten up and sagging in weird places. I couldn't imagine living in some place that reminded me of grandpa, and Landon didn't really look all that happy either. He never did like grandpa that much.

"Well..." Landon said. "Here we are." He turned off the car and slide the key out of the ignition.

"Here we are," I repeated. We both sat the car, just staring at the house for a while, before he finally cleared his throat.

"Let's go in, shall we?" I would have said no. But it wasn't really a question. More of a statement.

The wood under my feet creaked as I walked on it. I didn't think floors were supposed to make that noise. Landon didn't look like he thought so either. Most of our stuff was already brought in. My bedroom seemed to be the biggest other then Landon's, and it had the biggest window. I like windows. You never know what you'll look out and see. You just trust that it will never change. I asked Landon how the furniture got here. He said other men moved it. Seems kind of like he was lazy to me.

That night was different. The sheets felt kind of scratchy, even though they were the same sheets, and the walls seemed different, and the air seemed different. Most of the night Landon yelled into his phone. I think the walls are a lot thinner here then at our old house.

"This is not what you said the house would be, Jacob!" He shouted. Jacob was his best friend, I think, or they sure acted like it. Maybe people act like things when they're not actually true.

"I am trying to raise my schizophrenic sister, how can I do that in this dump?" I think he hung up after that. If it was an older phone you could have heard the angry slam of the phone. But this was an iPhone, and he really liked his iPhone. I still heard it clunk to the floor though. I wondered if maybe Jacob and him would be better friends if I wasn't here. I couldn't tell if that was the voices or just me. I think it might have been just me.

I heard weird things at night. It wasn't like when I normally hear things at night. When I hear things at night it's scary. But this wasn't scary. It was a weird noise. Like a little tune from a music box. I didn't tell Landon about it the next day though. I thought again about how stressed he looked and how that might be because of me. I didn't tell him the next night either. Maybe normal people hear music boxes at night. I doubted that, but I had taken my meds like normal. I didn't want the little tune to go away, exactly. It was a nice little tune. I decided it could stay if it wanted. So it did.

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