Disparate Realities

I looked up at the doctor leaning over me, pity in his eyes.

“The creatures you see are not real, Ms. Denver,” he said. “They are just a figment of your imagination.”

Really? Like Narnia was a figment of the children’s imagination? Like the creature that is currently sitting on your shoulders, nibbling on your ears?  I’m not crazy, doc. You’re just blind to the reality that I can see.

But I didn’t say the words out. He would just keep me locked in this facility for a six more months.

“I’m starting to realize that, doctor.”

A satisfied gleam entered his eyes. “Good. Now you just need to believe what you said and you will be fine. “

I sagged in my seat. Really, there was no winning with this guy!

“What do you want me to say?” I scowled. “That there is no magic in this world, that all that exists is this dreary life that has no hope, no joy and no love? What you call my imagination, my dreams is what fuels the good in this world. Hope, love, affection – all of it comes from dreams.”

An uncomfortable look came over the doctor’s eyes. “I agree to that. But dreams have a place in life, Ms. Denver. If they start to interfere with real life, then there’s trouble. Your whole life has been lived in an imaginary world. You say you went down a rabbit hole. A rabbit hole, for Christ’s sake!”

I clenched my teeth. “Yes I did! And you can too. All you have to do is believe.”

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