• “False Magic”
    By Krystal

    Thoughts and emotions crawl across my skin like ants on a picnic.
    Words are flying above me like loud colorful birds all screeching,“Pick me! Pick me!”

    But my lips are covered my by the blue plastic glove, that whispers softly sinister in my ear,“Ssh, it's time for your medicine”.

    They try to keep the visions down using magics I've never heard of before.
    But all they do is put a layer of fog over the 'real world' making it all that much easier to view the next plane.

    Jack tells me that soon, he'll get us both out of this place with concrete trees and antiseptic people.
    Even though I never receive anything from him, I trust him.

    He reminds me of a stone wall, firm and smooth, incapable of become a door with windows that I can open or look into. Jack tells me what is on his mind, but I'll never get in his head.

    But I don't mind not knowing, I'm sure that I can trust him. Besides, I think... I just might love him.

    Here, let me explain a bit.
    Strange phenomenon occur when I am in his presence.
    The world spins, a million dizzy colors flash behind my eyes, a demented strobe light.
    I like it.
    'Fireworks', as an emotional term, only makes sense coming from an empath.

    He's all I ever think about, the way his face looks tattooed, even though those marks burn him like branding irons.

    Why am I bothering to tell you?
    Shouldn't love be personal? A secret to be kept?
    That's what all the romance novels tell us, according to Leslie.

    Well, maybe it isn't love after all,
    like I said, I'm not exactly sure.

    At least I'm sure that my feelings aren't false, besides, I enjoy the fantasies I create,
    He'll sweep me off my feet to a world away from this hospital, to a place where freaks like us aren't shunned.

    Have I mentioned that I think I love him?
    Oh, I have?

    “Oh hello Leslie, it's that time again is it?”

    ...