Although time seems to speed up when Breckon’s asleep, it can’t move quickly enough for me. With every hour that goes by I find myself more and more surprised that the depth of my agitation doesn’t snap me immediately into full consciousness.I think …This is going to sound completely freakish but I think I might be able to remember the moment I was born, and if that’s true it’s something I want to forget fast. The experience smelled like sweat mingled with disinfectant. Overwhelmingly bright and loud and altogether wrong. I screamed at the outrageous wrongness of it, every cell of my tiny being protesting, but I couldn’t make it stop—the incomprehensible flurry of images and sounds, cool air brushing against my newly unprotected skin—no, no, I don’t want this!And this next thing is even crazier than my false birth memory—because there’s no way that can be real, right? Anyway, this is lock me up in a rubber room crazy (which doesn’t matter because for all intents and purposes, I’m already there), but the memories rushing to the surface now predate me.
