I write only the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth.

All you need to know is one fact. But this isn't what you need to know, this is what you don't want to know. This is what I want you to know. Not knowing this would make your decision so much easier. But that is why I'm telling you. You don't know how I've suffered. You just don't. The worst part is you don't even try. Then again, its much worse when they do try. You are the only one who has tried. But it isn't even worth it. Because your story will be murder or rape or suicide, or any combination. My troubles aren't like yours. They are things that shouldn't happen - things that couldn't happen. They did. And this life isn't deserved. I do not deserve it. This haunts me, but I have to live it. Dying would be a worse betrayal than living. Why? My suffering is because of her. She should have lived. she should have lived while I had died. Instead it was her. Now I live, weighed down with guilt from my cowardice while knowing dying would be a further insult to her. Say she will never know - I will know. I don't live in your world. You have to accept that I don't. I tried to live with a foot in both. To keep myself from insanity; look where that got me. There is more to me than you will ever know. I am a hard egg to crack, Dr. Skylar. Yes, I'm addressing you, did you actually think I didn't know you would be reading this.

At that point I slammed the leather book. I could just imagine her sneering face as she wrote this. I put my head into my arms laughing and crying all at once. Of corse they had given the new guy the most challenging case. That was just like the department, torturing all the newbies. That Vivian Swan was one tough nut all right. A really crazy nutcase. Still there had to be some obvious traumatic event in her life that could lead to these hallucinations.

I took a sip on my coffee and pushed my glasses up my nose.

They followed me. No, not stalkers. That's pitiful compared to my followers. They could smell me from miles away.

Smell her? Maybe she had some interaction with mobsters and think of them as monsters? Her case was getting more confusing by the minute. What decision of mine? What fact will change everything? Who was this other mysterious girl?

I sigh and lay down the papers.

That night I had vivid dreams, I was staring through what seemed like a one way mirror with Vivian on the other side. She looked serious, but had a pleading look on her face and did not seem to see me. I tried to help her but she kept drifting farther and farther away.

I woke up with a start. My heart thumping wildly. The sun was rising through my apartment window and the face of the clock read 5:00. I had about two hours to get ready and go to work.

When I got out of bed, I looked in the mirror - thick wavey blonde hair, blue eyes, and of course my thick rimmed glasses. I couldn't help admiring myself for a momment. After showering, dressing, and eating a quick meal of cereal I hailed a cab and started the drive to work. I couldn't stop thinking about Vivian's case. She obviously blamed herself for someone's - probably her friend's death. She created fantasies about it, but never actually revealed what she thought happened. Without knowing the details of her imaginings it was hard to pinpoint the situation.

My office building rose up into view and soon the cab stopped with a jolt. I grabbed my suitcase and opened the sliding glass doors. In the lobby I greeted the receptionist, Millie. It was obvious she had a thing for me, had said Cameron - a co-worker. It was obvious that every girl in the building had a thing for me - but I just didn't have time, especially with that Vivian around. I sat at my office and drank my coffee, waiting for my patient to arrive.