The young strawberry blonde who was anxiously waiting, almost expecting him to slam the door on her face instead casually and collectedly lit a cigarette. She swallowed a mouthful of spit and watched him light it and inhale. Something about the way he did it made it feel like as if smoking was actually a part of his being, like seeing a movie star do it in a scene so flawlessly. Then she heard him curse under his breath and then she was almost positive his door would be in her face but instead he walked back into her apartment, commanding her to close the door quickly. She was left there and then quickly followed his instructions and shut his door, she didn’t bother to lock the several locks on it and instead followed him into his kitchen. His place was anything far from fancy or luxurious but she imagined it was home enough for him. He was sitting down at the table while smoking his cigarette while eyeing her and she had never felt so vulnerable or exposed in her life, she was talking to a damn stranger, in a strangers apartment after escaping a psychiatric institution because she believed she wasn’t really crazy. She had her hands curled underneath her long cardigan sleeves and stood there. She looked around as if paranoid around his kitchen and he could tell her bloodshot eyes were glistening.<br/><br/>“<b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00b3b3">Several months ago I got arrested for supposedly sleep walking and causing havoc at a local convenience store. I guess I walked in like a zombie and just started eating and drinking whatever I wanted and attacked when the owner tried to stop me. I don’t remember doing it. I also see things….” </span></b>She wiped her nose sniffling and shifted her weight onto one foot. “<b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00b3b3">Bad things, as if a person could be a monster,”</span></b>she whispered in a stammer. “<b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00b3b3">Anyway they locked me in a hospital and pumped me with antipsychotics, narcotics and sedatives with various treatments eventually saying I am just Schizophrenic. I’m not…I never had any issues before.”</span></b>She said licking her chapped lips. “<b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00b3b3">Something’s wrong with me but I don’t know what….its almost like I’m me but then I am not….like I don’t even feel right in my own skin.”</span></b>She finished. She got quiet as she watched his smoke and gulped just standing there. He was her last and only hope.