The Psychopath

I was skulking under a bush outside of Tori Amos' house somewhere in upstate New York, trying to get a glimpse of the famous rock goddess, when a retired quartermaster almost ran me over.

"Hey you, kid, don't ya know lying there is a calamity?! You could get killed or something."

I remember the lawn mower was comprised of human bones, or was it? Ever since I started these new medications I've been hallucinating like that. Seeing dead people everywhere.  I'm not even sure if the quartermaster was alive.  If not only the living dead people is strange enough, everyone keeps scoffing at me. Even though my psychologist INSISTS it's just the paranoia, but I know it's not.

"Hey kid!  Get out of my way  I'm trying to mow the lawn here!"

I ran as fast as I could, but then I stumbled over a rock and fell fast to the ground.  Then I remembered how my doctor told me she could send me to a place for succor, a place that would take care of me "real nice", place that takes care of people like me in adversity.  But i felt inaccomodate  going to a place like that.  Those places are for crazy people, not like me.  My parents even told me they would recompense me if I  stopped falling off the roof of our  house, because I was staring at the stars through my telescope.

But what does that have to do with anything? I hate it when I change the subject like that.  It's like the time in English class  when I was giving a discourse about The Lord of the Flies, when I started going on a tangent about how people's lives in Australia are totally different from ours, and then I just  started to be profane because somehow god came into the argument between my teacher and me about how Australia has NOTHING to do with The Lord of the Flies.

It was  late afternoon when  I realized the cops had came and taken me from the lawn of the huge mansion.  I guess getting help isn't that bad at all.