Where is Cassandra

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I did not know what the psychologist who examined me was thinking when she decided that I had to be admitted into what she called their intake program, after we had a thorough discussion about the discovery of my inability to produce love juices required to make children, and about how Stefi and Greg had wrecked my life through their romantic partnership.

“You need help,” she said with a reassuring smile. “And that is what we do best here.”

York-Dee was the name of the mental health clinic I had to check into for support services from psychologists and psychiatrists who worked there for their bread and butter.

Wack had felt sorry for me when I called his number and told him I had been admitted into York-Dee. This was before I checked in. I had no way of figuring out if he believed I deserved to go there or not. But he was quick to let me know how unpleased he was that I had gone to confront Greg. What! I had not even told him about that! It was shocking how news of what I had done had gone on to spread.

“How would you have responded to Greg if you were in my shoes?” I asked him.

“I would have gone to court,” he said.

“That is nonsense!” I replied. Then I ended the conversation by putting an abrupt end to the phone call.

Stefi only laughed at me when I told her I had been ordered to the mental clinic. Like Wack, she wasn’t pleased at all that I had paid Greg a notorious kind of visit. I did not tell her what I did, and I was not surprised that she got to know. There was no iota of doubt in my mind that Greg Graz, her fuck-buddy, must have told her.

“That is what you get for not keeping your hands off Greg,” she said to me. “Don’t you think you deserve to chill out in a place like that and get some help?”

“I’m not mentally sick!” I replied.

“There’s no doubt you haven’t proved it.”

“Is that how you see me? Mentally sick?”

“I won’t lie to you, Jan. Any person that dares to lay his hands on the sweet loving father of Dick, Hadley and Tammy even deserves to go to jail.”

“What?” Dazed, I asked.

“You heard me!” Stefi responded.

One thing had become clear to me. That thing was my ugly and painful reality. Greg the father of Stefi’s kids had become more important to her than I her husband. To be frank, I did not know if I still meant anything to Stefi in anyway. I could only see myself as a piece of thrash in the house she could not just throw out like rumpled paper. To say that these all started to make me delusional, would be an understatement. I was all perturbed and questioned why I had to be even born to become this messed up. I began to harbor some dislike for my Mom and Dad for giving birth to me in the first place. I would not have had a chance to amount to this mess if Mom had aborted that abominable pregnancy that resulted in me, I thought. Oh…! There was nothing else I started to hate more than myself.


“Now the whole world hates me,” I gently said to myself while lying on the bed, all alone, in a room I was given at York-Dee. “Everyone in this world believes I’m crazy,” I continued to talk. “Look at my life. It’s all a mess. It’s all emptiness. There’s nothing else in this world for me. Nothing else. No hope. What I’m I living for? I’m a mess…. I’m nothing.”

You have hope and your future is bright. These were the words I heard all of a sudden. It took me only two seconds to figure out who had spoken to me. The voice was back after a long absence from meddling in my affairs. There was a surge of excitement within me. I was dying for someone to talk with, someone not from York-Dee telling me how depressed I was. Though the voice did not exactly come from any human being I could see with my naked eyes, I felt I needed its company more than ever.

“I’m not in good shape now,” I replied. “My life is a mess. Oh…. come on, stop that. How can my future be bright?”

You have hope.

“How can you say that? I know you are aware of all the terrible things my life has become.”

I know, but that will not be your story if you can just start to sound a little optimistic with me around. Remember I’ve been waiting for you.

“What do you mean?”

Just throw away your sadness. Just tell me you’re good after my next question and we will take it from there, okay? Quite unlike me, I felt inclined to do as The Voice had said. And that turned out to be the best decision I ever made because of where it all led to.

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