It was a typical Sunday morning a few weeks ago when it happened. My mom was cooking me an omelet, and dad was reading the paper. I was rummaging through the cupboard to get some honey to drizzle on a banana when I heard it:
“CLAW.” And then there was whispering in a female voice I couldn’t make out, which I somehow knew was about me.
“What’d you say, mom?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
I paused for a moment. “Did you say something, dad?”
He shook his head.
“So neither of you heard it?”
“Heard what?”
A chill ran down my spine as I suddenly realized what just happened: Continue reading “Why I Don’t Care What You Call Whatever’s Wrong with My Brain”