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this again look what came in the mail it's a psychologist's contact info her name is dr norman enough with this just leave me alone hi i'm rita from seattle a girl who remembers things that never happened ever since i was a kid i'd been haunted by strange visions Sometimes they were images that I painted as abstract forms.
Other times I hummed melodies that I'd never actually heard.
When I was little, my parents chalked it up to an overactive imagination.
It was so dark and scary, but then a song would play and I'd feel better.
That was
just a
dream.
But as I grew older, those visions didn't go away, and my mom got worried.
She took me to different psychologists, but no one could explain what was happening.
One day, I wandered the city until it got dark, and when I returned home, my parents called me in for another serious talk.
I set up an appointment with Dr. Norman.
People speak very highly of her.
She'll see you first thing tomorrow morning.
I could have pretended to be sick, climbed out the window, even eaten my own medical records.
Nothing would have worked.
Mom would have taken me to that damn session anyway.
So the next morning, I didn't resist.
Same as always.
I'll go once.
Just once.
And then the therapist will probably decide I'm too much to handle.
You don't have to come in with me.
I'm not a kid.
Fine.
I'll wait in the car.
this again look what came in the mail it's a psychologist's contact info her name is dr norman enough with this just leave me alone hi i'm rita from seattle a girl who remembers things that never happened ever since i was a kid i'd been haunted by strange visions Sometimes they were images that I painted as abstract forms.
Other times I hummed melodies that I'd never actually heard.
When I was little, my parents chalked it up to an overactive imagination.
It was so dark and scary, but then a song would play and I'd feel better.
That was
just a
dream.
But as I grew older, those visions didn't go away, and my mom got worried.
She took me to different psychologists, but no one could explain what was happening.
One day, I wandered the city until it got dark, and when I returned home, my parents called me in for another serious talk.
I set up an appointment with Dr. Norman.
People speak very highly of her.
She'll see you first thing tomorrow morning.
I could have pretended to be sick, climbed out the window, even eaten my own medical records.
Nothing would have worked.
Mom would have taken me to that damn session anyway.
So the next morning, I didn't resist.
Same as always.
I'll go once.
Just once.
And then the therapist will probably decide I'm too much to handle.
You don't have to come in with me.
I'm not a kid.
Fine.
I'll wait in the car.
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