1. The New Breed of Normal

And just like that they were all around me. These monsters. No scratch that, demons were there. All of them faceless, morbid looking beasts with disoriented bodies, long ghastly hair, and high pitched screeching voices. They chased after me screaming "Devan come to us. We want you. We need you. We will consume you. " And the more I tried to get away the more they multiplied and the more they followed. 

"And what did you do?"

I ran. And ran. And ran. I ran til my feet gave out and the ground from beneath me caved in, allowing the demons to swallow me whole. 

"And then what happened?"

Nothing. Everything went black  and then I...

"You woke up."

"What?"

"You woke up, from the dream that is Mr. Flint." Dr. Rogers  said pushing her thick brown glasses back onto her nose. "I'm pleased to tell you that you seem to be having some sort of repeated nightmare." She smiled arrogantly, proud that she had figured it out.

"Yet  I don't think these are dreams." I replied with a serious note causing Dr. Rogers to put down her notebook and stare at me strangely.

"What do you mean they are not dreams."

I leaned back onto the lounger allowing myself to get into a comfortable position. "I mean exactly what I said. They aren't dreams.  They happen too frequently . Plus they occur when I'm not sleeping as well."

"Oh so you daydream too?"

"No I don't daydream. That is not what I said."

"Well that's what it sounds like Mr. Flint."

"That's because you don't listen!" This lady was really starting to piss me off. "What's going on with me has nothing to do with dreams , or lack of sleep, or any of that crap!"

"Well Mr. Flint from what I gathered from both my analysis and yours it seems I have come up with a solution. I think you suffer from a combined problem of anxiety, and problems, and hysteria. I am going to write you a prescription for pills to help deal with your situation and I will set you with some appointments with Dr. Bhandari  to focus on your hysteria ok. Any last comments or questions?"

"This is bullshit."

"Ok I understand. Have a nice day."

I left the psychologists office and got in my car, throwing the prescription into the glove box.  There was no way I was going to go get it filled out. I'm not crazy. There was no need to pop pills.

I drove down the Santa Manuela highway since that was the quickest route to get home. All the while I thought about what Dr. Rogers had said. Hysteria. Dreams. Anger Management. All bullshit. There was no way in hell I was going to let some other Doc tell my I was crazy. It took spending five years in a mental institution to find that.

Yeah your not crazy. "What the hell was that?" Were very real. Oh no not again. I swerved the car uncontrollably unable to stop myself from almost colliding with other cars. I could here the cars honking at me. People were spewing curses left and right as I my car collided with wall. And again I was thrown into the darkness.

No. No! Get away from me. Stay away! What the hell do you want from me?!" I could feel the ground from under me cave in with each step I took. The demons chased after me. This time they were even closer.  I tried get away. I was speeding. But they were faster. Much faster.

Devan! Devan!

I woke up to the sound of a voice that was familiar. It was soft and sweet yet firm and insistent. A voice that in a strange since was comforting. Slowly but surely I opened my eyes. And to my surprise it was none other than Rachel my ex wife.