"So explain to me what's been happening to you, Zelophehad," the psychiatrist says.
I'm back in the prison. I'm in a straight jacket and I'm chained to the wall. There are no windows.
"Every time I see my reflection, it's like there's someone else there with me."
"Can you tell me what this person looks like?"
"Of course, he's... he's..." I pause. "I can't remember..."
"When did this start?" he asks.
"Four nights ago, after I got in my car after work. He was in the rearview."
"Has he done anything? Or does he just sit there?"
"I've... god, I'm going insane!" I scream.
"Calm down please. You were about to say something. You've what?"
"I've... I've talked to him. I've talked to him. I've talked a fucking reflection! What is wrong with me?!" I yell
and thrash around in my restraints.
"Let's move on," he says, ignoring my tantrum. "Tell me about the murders you've committed."
"You know more than I do. I was asleep when they happened."
"So you don't remember actually killing anyone? Not your neighbors? Or the prison guards? Or the inmates? Or those two hippies in Oregon?"
"I don't remember any of it. I go to sleep, I wake up and they're dead."
"How do you that you killed them, then?" he asks calmly.
"Because..." I trail off.
"Because he told me," I murmur.
"Because who told you?"
"My reflection," I whisper. "I'm insane."
"No you're not insane," replies the psychiatrist. "Though something is definitely wrong."
"I'm seeing things. I'm hearing voices! I'm killing people! What part of that doesn't sound insane to you?!"
"Please try to remain calm. I'm trying to explain something to you."
I silence myself.
"Now, you're correct, the voices and hallucinations are troubling. However, people don't develop schizophrenia or MPD over night. Nor has there been any recorded instance of someone being coordinated enough to commit murder while sleepwalking. This all suggest something completely new. And that's not even taking into consideration the footage from the surveillance cameras the night of your prison breakout."
"What happened?" I blurt out. "Please tell me!"
"Well, what happened makes no scientific sense at all," he says solemnly. "You woke from your sleep and began growing rapidly. You grew to about seven and a half feet tall and had unbelievably large body mass. You were deformed and grotesque. You cackled wildly and took perverse joy in the destruction and slaughter that you caused. You smashed through walls like they were made of paper, and snapped men's bones like toothpicks."
I stare at him, my jaw agape.
"That's not possible."
"Apparently, it is."
I stay motionless and silent for a very long time.
"So what happens to me now?" I ask finally.
He sighs regretfully.
"Fortunately, that's not my job to tell you. But I'd just like to say, I'm sorry I couldn't help you."
He stands up, and walks out of the room.