But my false memories seemed so entrenched Iclearly couldn't remember anything that had really happened in thepast.It pained me to think I was a bad p...rson. A violent one. Even tellingmyself my mental illness made me so wasn't helpful. Trying to absolvemyself from responsibility by pleading insanity simply didn't wash.If I had hit and kicked and spat, like the behaviour of the peoplearound me implied I did, it just made me hate myself all the more.Perhaps it was a blessing that I couldn't. Her chest rose as she yielded to a satisfying yawn, that resulted more from boredom, than lack of sleep. The tiny stream of moisture worked its way down her chest. Skewing left, it followed the curve of her right breast. With her head still resting on the windowpane, she watched the droplet struggle downward. The ultra fine baby hairs on her sweltering skin, challenged the journey.She could not remember being so hot. Immediately, she knew that that thought was a lie, a blatant lie. She had been. More

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