“How can I be sure that you’re real?”
Right now she is sober. Sober, but muddled with the aftereffects of drugs. She’s coming down from a dangerous high, toxins reacting with her developing glands, producing an alarming amount of dopamine. The consuming chatter of the other-world has been dialed down to a hush. Her eyes are heavy, limbs immobile, and her thoughts, rather than a whirlwind of internal conflict, is a deafening silence. She cannot force any form of creativity if her life depended on it.
It is Day 1 without her pills, because she’s saving her stash for emergency situations. The night was spent ravaging the streets in search of her lost brother. Now it is daytime, and she’s missing from breakfast time, which means she’s missing from the joined role call and scheduled medication hand out. If she does not turn up by lunch time, they will file her as missing and search the grounds for her.
“We’ve been together for hours now, and yet you question my existence only now?” The corners of her lips quirk upwards, a mocking laughter trailing afterwards. “Did you take one of my pills? I’m going to need you to spit that out immediately. It only works for me.” She pouts before continuing her leisurly pace down the sidewalk, dodging the morning commuters on their way to where they need to be. Everyone is in such a hurry, but Minnie wants nothing more than to enjoy life outside her four walls. This is a luxury she should not abuse.
“By the way, thank you for posing as my sibling so that cop could leave me alone. I keep telling them to go away, but they always try sending me home, threatening to call my parents. I don’t even have parents.” She huffs indignantly, but her annoyance settles down into apathy and she regains her composure. “And thanks for helping me look for my brother. You made the search less draining and more fun.” She stops in her tracks and faces the other. “Why don;t you think I’m real? Do you think I’m a figment of your imagination? What will it take for you to believe me? What proof could I show you?” She’s mainly talking to herself at this point as her eyes roll to the bright, cloudless sky and truly ponders her options. “Should I pinch you? Or would something drastic be fitting? If I cut my wrists would my blood be enough proof?” She laughs, shrill and high before slapping at their upper arm. “I’m sorry, that was too dark. I’m not crazy, I promise. I’m real. Very real.”
