DISCLAIMER: This is mostly John Neufield's dialogue and James E. Reily's characters, I'm just put the two together for everyone's enjoyment.
"Daddy, I think I'm going crazy."
Simone looked up astonished.
"Oh?" Mrs. Bennett said. "Why is that?"
"I can't tell you," Kay said. "I just think it's true. And I'm frightened."
"More, Jessica?" Mrs. Bennett asked.
"No, thanks," Kay's sister answered.
"Kay?" her mother asked.
"No. Listen, didn't anyone hear what I just said?"
"We heard you, dear," Mrs. Bennett replied.
"What is it you're crazy about?" Kay's father asked.
"Damn it, Daddy! That's not it at all." Kay took a big breath, as though she were fighting something down.
"What is it then?"
"That is it. I don't know. I only have a feeling that something is awfully wrong. Inside my head. I hear people. Talking, I mean, inside."
"Coffee, Simone?" Mrs. Bennett offered.
"No, thanks, Mrs. Bennett," Simone answered.
"Listen to me!" Kay shouted.
Everyone did.
"I think I'm going crazy," Kay said again. "I think I'm going out of my mind. Could we get some help or something?"
"Like what?" her mother asked. "You've mentioned this before, but you never say what you want to do about it."
Simone was startled. This was the first time she'd ever heard Kay say anything about this.
"Besides," Mrs. Bennett went on, "I think it's very rude of you to discuss this sort of thing when we have guests."
"Oh," Simone smiled sheepishly," don't mind me. Really."
"Since you don't pay any attention to me when we're alone," Kay protested, "I thought you might with other people around."
"All right, all right," Mrs. Bennett sighed. "What is it you think you need?"
"Well," said Kay, calmer, quiet but not hopeful, "maybe a psychiatrist or someone. I mean," she added quickly, "it wouldn't have to be an expensive one. Just someone who would understand and know what to do."
"You've seen too many movies," Mr. Bennett said.
"Who else has a psychiatrist, Kay, in your class?" her mother wanted to know.
"How should I know?" Kay said, clenching her teeth, trying to smile politely. "I don't imagine it's the kind of thing people talk much about."
"I think it's exactly the kind of thing people do talk about, dear," said her mother, ringing a little silver dinner bell for the maid and smiling knowledgeably.
"Daddy, please," Kay said, straining. "Please, could you talk to someone, or get a doctor? Or maybe just do anything?"
"All right, honey. As soon as I get back from Minneapolis," he said pleasently and got up from the table.
Simone said that Kay just sat and stared at her father as he walked away. She started to turn toward her mother to say something but changed her mind. Simone thought it might have been tears that stopped her.
And then Simone was Kay's head begin to shake, ever so slightly. Not shake, exactly: quiver, up and down, from the chin. It was like palsy, Simone said.
After a moment, Kay too stood up and excused herself. Then she ran upstairs.
In her room, Kay threw herself onto her bed and pulled up into a pony-position, on all fours, her sobs beginning to motion. Slowly at first, and then faster and faster, she began to rock back and forth, rhythmically smashing her head into the headboard.
Simone stood in the hallway, listening through the door, before she eased it open.