Where is Cassandra

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My first three days at York-Dee were unpleasantly filled with boring counselling sessions I was convinced I did not need. Somebody help me! I stayed mostly lonely in my room after the sessions. Stefi did not bother to come and see me. I had started to learn not to worry about her deeds, so that did not trouble me one bit. Wack too did not come. That made me feel a little disappointed, but hey! “You need to carry on with your life and find other ways to be happy here,” I told myself. And the one time I had been happy since coming to York-Dee was the time The Voice came to engage me with a conversation and kept me company. There was no doubt in my mind that it made me feel really good. And there was no therapeutic session at York-Dee that could surpass that. The Voice had not come for two days, and I had begun to wonder, all alone in my room, if it would ever come back to me again. Though it had never sounded one bit like it had any plans to desert me, but my mind kept telling me things. You never know. Out of sight is out of mind. It may have abandoned you now you’ve started to need it around you.

“Where are you?” I thought aloud, referring to the voice, as I rolled from the left side of my bed to the right. “You’re not gonna leave me now, are you?”

Not now, Jan. I’m not leaving you. I’m waiting for you.

I knew it was the voice that said those words when I heard them. It was back and I was thrilled.

“How could you just leave me alone for days?” I said and sat up on my bed.

How are you today?

“Not so fine because you left me alone for days,” I responded, starring at the walls of my room as if the voice was somewhere posted on them like some posters I could see. I was doing mostly nothing but waiting for you,” I went ahead to say with a smile. “You disappeared on me. Don’t do that again please. Can’t you feel me? I’m just so crazy about you now.”

I’m crazy about you too. I love you to your bones. I’ve always. But demands of my world make it hard for me to talk with you as much as I would love to. You know what I mean? Like every minute of the day.

“Your world? What is it like? Where is it?

Passage of time will let you know, Jan. Let’s take it slow.

“How can I reach you when you’re gone? I want to be calling you.”

I understand how much you love to do that.

“Then I should have your number...”

My number?


I don’t use those gadgets called phones.

“Really? Seriously?” I asked, not quite believing it.


“So what do you communicate with in your world? Emails? Fax?”

None of those, Jan.

“Unless you’re telling me you don’t love me enough to want to meet with me. All I’m saying is that I want to meet with you!”

I can see you’re surely tired of this place.

“That is true but what I’m more tired of right now is not being able to see what you look like,” I said. “Iwant to see you now!”

All I wanted was to set my eyes on the familiar stranger who cared enough about me to visit. It had helped to keep my sickening feeling at bay, a feeling that kept haunting my mind, the disgusting feeling that my whole life had let me down. The voice had become my way forward and hope for true companionship I was desperate to have for good, and not some psychologists telling me a bunch of bullshit they had read in books about possible schizophrenia in my case.

I know you want to see me.

“I want to see you! I’m sick and tired of hearing your voice alone!”

Alright, my love, I have a plan for that.

“What’s the plan?”

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