Death of a Mind

I leave the books behind and go to my room . I cry , as if Chase recently died and isn’t brooding in the room next door . I almost wish he’d die . Seeing him lose his mind feels more painful . At least if he died , I wouldn’t have to be teased by seeing his physical body , because the Chase I adore doesn’t exist anymore . His body is a house that is falling apart , and his mind is a prisoner in the upstairs attic . I have no hope . Still , sometimes , a glimpse of his malnourished body makes me want to violently shake him until the chains holding his mind captive fall free . As if that would work .

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He Was a Fool

Practicing the black arts leads to what lives within the shadows, and you never know what you are going to attract by dabbling in such things. Often times, those who argue that black magic doesn’t work haven’t personally practiced it. Having experienced it directly, I am one who believes that some doors are meant to remain shut, but fools rush in where angels fear to tread, and if anything could be said of my father it was that he was a fool.

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Army of Dolls

While I wait across the desk from her, I glance around her peculiar office . It’s actually a spare room in her house , and that makes me uncomfortable. The walls and floor are a pale pink . Numerous old – fashioned dolls in Victorian dresses and doll houses are scattered throughout the room . It reminds me of a five year – old girl’s playroom . I hate dolls . They’re creepy, plastic , miniature humans who probably come alive at night and kill people…

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Being Irish in America

It is an interesting aspect of the Irish in America that Steve, like others of his generation who were several generations removed from Ireland, felt that being Irish defined who they were. Possibly, it had to do with the identity it gave them. Saying that you were Irish was comparable to claiming membership in a distinct fraternity with a common tradition, secret rituals, and assured friendships wherever you found a fellow member of the Irish diaspora.

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By the Book and According to Protocol

She nods but looks dissatisfied. Her expression betrays that she already knows the root of my problem and wants me to provide her with supporting evidence. I don’t think she’s going to change what she’s decided , even if our conversations don’t support her theory. I sigh . She’s one of those people who goes by the books . The medical rule books, that is.

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