BRIANA THOMPSON
Here I am, inside the closet, mouth wide open, unable to believe what I've been seeing for about ten minutes.
I've even forgotten what I was supposed to do.
"Honey, is something wrong?"
I hear my godmother's voice behind me, but I can't turn to look at her.
"Your son is crazy, godmother, he needs to be admitted to a psychiatric clinic as soon as possible, because he's seriously, seriously crazy. Kindly inform my godfather as well."
She bursts out laughing and touches my arm, pulling me out of the trance I was in.
"What did he do now, Briana, to make you so sure of his madness?"
This time I turn towards her.
"You're still asking, godmother? Look at this!" I step aside so she could see what he did.
"They're your things. What's wrong with that?"
My God, my godmother
