But that something had varied. She had been there before and he hadn’t screamed. He had been sleeping, then not when the day moved forward.“So ......is he one of us?” I heard it before I realized I was the one that asked it.Shannon laid some papers on the table, logs from nurse workstations. I reached forward and took them. Every single night this guy woke up at or very near midnight screaming and had to be sedated. What he was screaming made no sense. Something about “they’re gone” and “I have. I also wrote to Alice although she had not written since she returned to school. I related the night before, having Cindy come to the house, waking up to find Becky staring at me and the letter I had written to her. Just picturing Alice reading the letter helped ease the tightness I felt in my chest. I could almost see her, wearing the metal-rimmed glasses, nodding her understanding and smiling to herself about my adolescent description of my troubles. I didn't expect an answer; picturing her. More

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