I know you. I’ve seen you at your worst. Seeing you out and about is abstract to me. You don’t quite belong here. I remember you and your dreadful behaviour. What’s to stop you from screaming at everyone in this supermarket? I remember when you arrived and refused to cooperate. Why are you cooperating here? I know you. I know who you really are.
I know her face but I can’t quite place her. Too many hospitalisations have made the less memorable people blur. I can’t remember which hospital she is from. She’s not a patient, she didn’t look at me like another patient would. She could be a nurse or a doctor, I’ve met so many! I only saw her briefly in the supermarket but she looked right through me. She knew that I was just another mental patient playing house.