The Meaning Of Crazy

'I guess I should probably explain what got us here.
There is a virus.
Well, I say virus, it’s more like a mental condition.
One that can infect.'
Sarah Cray is locked up, with no way to get out. Except from by helping the voice inside her head.

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1. Mourning

Don’t panic.

Just don’t panic.

 

Hold your breath. Keep fighting. Falling. Drowning. Focus on something. Anything. Just not that. The hands that hold yours down. The binds they put on your legs. The weight on your chest. No, not the weight. There is no weight anymore. I can feel it lifting. You are stronger than this. Pull your head up. Just pull up.

 

Hold on.

Don’t worry.

I’m coming.

 

Sarah woke with a start. The sweat poured down her brow. That was the third time that week. She was going to have to lie again. How she hated lying, and truly in both senses of the word. Everyday all she did was lie there and tell them how she felt.

 

Every day was the same.

 

You and I would think that quarantine would be manic. Truly, when I hear the word, I think of men running around in those disgusting yellow suits, making everything sound ten times worse than it actually was.

 

Not everything was like that.

Not for Sarah Cray.

 

Every day they would come in and take her temperature. Then they would ask her what she dreamed about. Whether she was having hallucinations. Every day, she would tell them:

 

I’m fine.

I dreamed about my sister.

I’m not having hallucinations.

 

Which we know isn’t quite true.

 

Every night, in fact, every time she closed her eyes, she would hear that voice talking to her. It was always the same. She would hear the voice calling to her. It happened so often that she had memorised what the voice said. Somehow she knew that the voice wouldn’t lie to her. She knew that what she was seeing every night was the truth.

 

But she wasn’t afraid.

 

Should she have been? Probably. It’s not everyday that you dream you’re drowning. I mean, you or I, we would have thought we were going mad. Maybe Sarah was. I guess we’ll never know.

Sarah sighed. She could hear the nurses coming down the corridor. There weren’t many of them left now. The patients, not the nurses. There seemed to always be at least ten nurses to every patient.

 

I guess I should probably explain what got us here.

There is a virus.

Well, I say virus, it’s more like a mental condition.

One that can infect.

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