ALEX
Zander’s sickness is clawing out of my skin.
It is trying to break out. I thought I could keep it in. I thought it was all in his head. I am wrong. It is alive. I thought that if I didn’t feed it as he did, it wouldn’t thrive. But it did. It does.
I run towards the cupboard and grab his medications. This should help. I pop in two pills. I don’t know which is which. There are three bottles, and I take two from each. Not too much, I hear Zander in my head. Not too little. I need two to function just right.
That should do. That should silence the other voices. No. They’re not talking to me. They’re talking to Zander. This is Zander’s burden.
It is too heavy. What if I am not fit enough to carry?
I close my eyes and wait for the medication to kick in. The room spins. No, it has been
