Chapter 1

Although I’m grateful for everything William has done for me, I am pretty lonely. There’s not a lot of people around, and I wish William would get over the idea that I’m “not ready.” To pass the time, I write things down in a journal William bought for me or I talk to our cat, Archimedes, wondering when I’ll be able to meet someone else, maybe another young woman like me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m extremely thankful I’m not drugged and lying in some hospital bed. It’s just that… I never really feel “welcome” here, in an old house that has more memories than I do. When I’m sitting down to our candlelit dinners, I often swear I’ve seen things moving in the shadows, reaching out to me. It’s not uncommon for Archimedes to growl at no one in particular when I’m quietly reading my magazines. It’s not just the weird feelings, it’s the noises that freak me out. Strange claws scratching at the windows or loud *THUNK* noises in the kitchen have made me feel a little edgy. Who am I supposed to tell? William, who would send me back to that hospital in an instance “for my own good”? The police who I may (or may not) be running away from?

I would rather die than go back to that hospital.

Anyway, William–never “Bill” or “Willy” or “Will–already had his breakfast this morning, just like he does at the same time every other morning. I’m supposed to start my own morning ritual, but I really don’t feel like racing out of bed to deal with “Mr. Insurance Giant USA.” I suppose there are worse jobs than transferring phone calls all day, but right now I’d settle for any job that helps me earn my keep. Other than cleaning.

I let myself shrink down underneath my warm covers and decide to call in sick to work, knowing that they really aren’t going to miss me. When I got out of the asylum, I was happily surprised to find out that William and I already lived together, so most of my “stuff” was already at his place (even though I couldn’t believe I’d actually own anything “pink”). A place to stay wasn’t ever going to be enough to keep me happy though, because I needed to pull my weight. Day after day, I would ask William to help me find some low-level job to show my gratitude and help pay the bills that he’s always complaining about.

Job hunting was never really an option for me based on what I “knew” about the world; in the end, I wasn’t qualified for most jobs. Again, I relied on William to point me in the right direction until finally, after two years of applying and getting rejected, William got me a work-from-home job for one of the world’s largest insurance companies, InsLife. My job is pretty simple, really. Someone calls in, asks for a number, and I’m supposed to say “One moment, please.” Then I punch the phone’s buttons to transfer them to whoever it is they need to talk to. There are times I wish I understood what my customers were asking for, because they never talk to me, they just ask for the numbers. I suppose that even if I did, I don’t think I’d be of much use. InsLife probably eats people for lunch. The implications of working for a cannibalistic major corporation frightens me a little bit, especially since they sent me the phone that I’m supposed to be working on. Ye gods, I hope that I’m not coordinating body parts shipments or…

Yeah, I’m definitely calling in sick today.