It's looking at me, the blue bug. It glows. That's why they don't ever listen to me. Plenty of things glow. Lightning bugs. Lightning bugs... lightning... bugs. Bugs. The bug is still looking at me, even after six hours. It always watches me after I wake up. Does it watch me while I sleep?
I shudder. It scuttles a little closer. I glare at it. I know this routine, this dance, and I do not like it.
Footsteps. There are footsteps in the hall. I don't break eye contact. It happens more quickly when people are near. The bug doesn't want them to see it.
Voices. Oh no, not voices. I guess it decides it has risked enough for today.
It lands on the inside of my left elbow and burrows in in the blink of an eye. I squeeze my eyes shut and whimper. It has happened so many times; I handle the pain better, but it still hurts beyond belief.
The people in the hall come through my door. They are the ones who don't believe, who never never see.
"I'm just going to give you some medicine to help you sleep, okay?"
I start to cry uncontrollably. I don't want to sleep. I don't... I don't want to wake up.
I am sound of mind. I can operate on my own. I'm normal. Sound. Of. Mind. Sound... mind. The sound in... mind. The sound in my mind... the click click click of the bug...
I'm not crazy.
You believe me.