The wide eyes of panic, the slight tinge of betrayal in her shoulders; that’s what I remember.
I was sitting on a couch, leaning back into too-thin cushions: little back support. We were playing a tabletop game, our heads engrossed in one of my closest friend’s voice. I get up to get water when we take a break, the other’s voices jumbled words muffled by the kitchen’s tile.
I hear one friend say, “I liked that description of the witch, it was almost real.” I close the fridge door, walking slowly back towards them.
“Yeah, he did it perfectly.”
I realize my mistake immediately.
- By Georgia Longphee | email@example.com
My aunt loves her Diet Cokes and always flatters me by calling me beautiful. Instantly, I tell her she is beautiful back. Sadly though, she is also a person who got unimaginably unlucky.
Due to wanting to protect her personal life, my aunt and her brother will remain anonymous.
My sixty-two year old aunt suffers with schizophrenia, and according to the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health, “As many as one person out of 100 may experience schizophrenia.”
- By Mackenzie Gellnar
- By Bill Atwood
I never imagined I’d one day be confined in a sterile room surrounded by glass windows, wires stuck to my scalp and body with a gritty paste, told to sleep as a panel of white lab-coats watched me.
- By Chloë Chapdelaine