She wondered if anyone would remember when she was sane. Because she was sure she was sane at one point or another. She certainly remembered feeling sane at one point.
But not anymore, that was for certain. She didn’t feel sane anymore. It all seemed too real, but she knew, logically, it couldn’t be. There was just no way. It was like she stepped into a television show one part Doctor Who, one part Star Trek, one part Buffy the Vampire slayer, all with an undercurrent of Bates Motel. It was stressful to say the least. It just couldn’t be reality anymore.
Or maybe it is reality, but if so, she was pretty sure she didn’t want to live there anymore. She curled up under a blanket in the corner of the room. Either the men with the good drugs or the monsters would come to get her—she frankly didn’t have a preference at this point.