I woke the next morning exhausted. My sleep had been restless and my arm ached with the throb of the scratches, that although looked better, still hurt like they had just been inflicted.
I moved about in a daze, made coffee, went about my normal routine feeling anything but normal. My memory felt even more fragmented today, I felt lost, and worried I would never feel normal again. As the day wore on, I fell into a sort of stupor and moved about like a zombie. Summer had lowered its oppressive heat on the world, and the oppression weighed on me, and made me lethargic. I ate, watched TV, and did laundry with a detached sense of reality that added to the strange feeling of being under glass. I even called my aunt but she didn’t answer.
When I finally couldn’t stand the sense of unreality an
