The man was leaving the Lincoln Memorial hospital. He had been given some regular clothes, and was going to be transferred to the halfway house. He was in the dayroom, saying his goodbyes. Brain wandered over.

‘So - I hear that you’re taking the long walk, man.’

He smiled at Brian - ‘Yes Brian - I’m heading to a halfway house to continue my treatment.’

Brian smirked - ‘So Ambrose’s brainwashing got the better of you, huh?’

He smiled.

‘Ambrose got you believing it was all in your mind - all of these aliens are just a figment of your imagination, ey?’

“Something like that.’

‘Just remember me, man’ - said Brian - ‘When you’re in the alien slaughterhouse and they’re getting ready to turn your ass into an alien hamburger, man!’

Brain walked away. Flat Earth Fiona came up to him and hugged him.

‘I like cannot thank you enough. I like sent my story - your story - to like some screenplay writer in Los Angeles and he loved it!’

He smiled.

‘He says it needs like a whole lot of work - but like he wants to work on it for a movie!’

‘Really?’

‘Like totally! Like as soon as I get out of here I am like totally going to L.A. to work on the script, and it is like totally going to move into production!’

She hugged him again.

‘I like totally cannot thank you enough. Like, meeting you has totally changed my life!’

He hugged her back.

He left the day room with one of the orderlies and headed down the corridor. Dr. Ambrose was waiting for him at the nurses’ station, reading some notes.

The man stood in front of Dr. Ambrose - ‘Thank you doctor.’

Dr. Ambrose looked up from his notes and smiled - ‘Ahh, there you are. So, are you ready for the next step of your journey?’

‘It’s scary, Dr. Ambrose - but at the same time it’s exciting.’

Dr. Ambrose smiled - ‘Yes, I’m sure that you’re filled with any number of emotions. The important thing to remember is that there will be good days, and there will be bad days. Give each day the opportunity to be a good day, and to continue to work on the coping mechanisms we have practiced. Also - you must remember to take your medication and to keep your appointments with your new therapist. Please remember that - will you?’

‘Yes doctor.’

‘Very good’ - said Dr. Ambrose, smiling and putting a hand on his shoulder - ‘You have made immense progress since you joined us here, and I am very proud of the work you have done. Another step forward - and let's make those angels sing!’

The man smiled and shook Dr. Ambrose’s hand. He left the nursing station and was led through the security doors and out to the hospital reception. A driver was waiting - and he shook the orderly’s hand and thanked him. The driver led him out to a minivan and he climbed inside, leaving the Lincoln Memorial Hospital for the last time.

####

The halfway house was a 1920s brick row house that was on the outskirts of the city in a quiet neighborhood. He was met at the halfway house by the day manager - a man named Stan. Stan welcomed him and gave him a quick tour of his new home.

‘Folks can stay with us for any amount of time - until they’re ready to head out on their own’ - said Stan, a friendly looking man with a mustache and a bald head that had been shaved close to his head at the sides. ‘The general idea is that you can consider this a safe place, where you can get oriented back to life outside of the hospital, and into a regular routine. You can even make some friends.’

Stan showed him the kitchen, the dining room, the lounge and garden. He showed him his room which was small but clean and cozy enough.

‘Now the rules’ - said Stan - ‘No booze, no drugs, no fighting, and no visitors.’

‘Okay.’

‘You have your meds and you have your appointments with your therapists booked up - Front door gets locked at sunset and unlocked at sunrise. If you break the rules or don’t make it home before the door is locked, then we will have to let your support officer know - and then it will be back to Lincoln.’

‘Understood.’

‘Now we wouldn’t want to do that. This is not a prison, so just make sure you follow the rules and everything will be just fine. Oh, and smoking is only in the back garden. No sitting on the stoop and smoking - the neighbors get a bit grumpy if you guys are all hanging out on the steps all day long.’

‘Got it.’

‘Well - lunch is at 1. We all pitch in - and I think they have you down for getting the soup ready. Make yourself at home - and welcome!’

‘Thanks.’

Stan left him in his room. He walked to the window and looked out at the street below. He pulled the net curtain to the side, and looked up the street and then down it. A woman was walking in the sun with a baby in a stroller. A few cars drove up the street - and he could hear a police or ambulance siren in the distance. He watched the woman walk past the house, and followed her as she walked away until she was out of site. He stared out of the window, and two men walked past. They were talking loudly, and one of them was saying “I fucking told you man - it’s just the way things works”. He watched the men walk past until he couldn’t see them anymore. He continued to watch the street.

A woman was walking down the sidewalk towards the house. She was on the other side of the road, and he could see her blonde hair. A wave of fear gripped him. He squinted so that he could make out her face. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and he felt a wave of adrenaline rush through his body. The woman came closer - she was tall and blonde. He pushed his face against the glass - trying to get a good look at her. The woman crossed the street and was heading towards the house. She was getting closer - and then he saw her face. It wasn’t her - it wasn’t Annabelle. He felt himself gag and vomit came up his throat and burned. He stepped away from the window and fell onto the bed. He was hyperventilating. He gripped his chest and tried to calm himself.

‘She’s not real’, he told himself. ‘She doesn’t exist - none of it is real. She was a fantasy that my mind made up, and I am in control of my mind.’

He lay on the bed whilst he gathered himself- and his breathing returned to normal. He looked up at the ceiling.

‘I’m not a bad person’ - he said to himself - ‘I was sick, but now I’m getting better. Everyday I’ll work to be better than the previous day. Annabelle is not real, and all of those things I thought I had done are not real.’

He sat up. He looked at the window and then left the room, going down to the garden to sit in the sun.

####

It was Wednesday and he was sitting in the park near the pond. He watched a young boy throwing bits of bread to the ducks. The sun was shining and it was a lovely early autumn day. He looked down the path and he saw her walking towards him - she was carrying two coffees.

She saw him and waved and smiled. He smiled and waved back.

She sat down on the bench beside him, and handed him a coffee - ‘I didn’t know how you have it - so it’s cream and sugar. I hope that’s okay.’

He took the coffee and thanked her.

‘So - how was your first week? How does it feel?’

He opened the flap on the top of the coffee cup and took a sip - ‘Feels okay. Scary, but okay.’

She too sipped her coffee - ‘I’m sure - how have you been managing?’

He looked away and watched the boy feeding the ducks - ‘I had a panic attack on my first day at the house.’

‘Oh. Are you okay?’

He turned back to her and smiled - ‘Yes, I’m fine. It was silly.’

‘What was?’

‘I’ve been through this with Dr. Ambrose a hundred times - maybe a thousand. About her - that she’s not real. But I saw a woman in the street and I thought it was her. And I panicked. This wave of fear washed over me - and I thought that she was coming for me. But….’

‘But what?’

‘I remembered my coping mechanisms - and I caught myself and calmed down. I reminded myself that she’s not real. I reminded myself that I’m a good person, and that everything I thought I had done wasn’t real.’

She smiled - ‘Well done.’

They sipped their coffees.

‘And how do you feel now - in this park with everyone? All these people around you?’

He looked around at the people. There were people walking dogs. There were people riding bikes. There were couples holding hands. There were families.

‘I feel okay - it feels scary, but okay.’

She sipped her coffee - ‘And how do you feel now - in this park with me?’

He turned back to her - she had a serious look on her face.

‘Can I tell you something Laura?’

She nodded.

‘Without you - I don’t think I could have made the progress I did. You and your friendship and help means the world to me. And to be sitting here with you - it really is a dream come true.’

Her face broke into a smile — she finished her coffee.

‘Shall we walk?’

They stood and began following the path around the pond, walking in silence for a while.

‘So what are your plans?’ - Laura asked.

‘I’m just going to take each day as it comes - continue with my therapy and get used to feeling….’

‘Feeling what?’ - Laura asked, looking at him as they walked.

‘Feeling….normal, I guess.’

They continued walking.

‘Everything felt so real - all of my delusions. It felt so real that I could touch it and feel it and smell it. It’s difficult - coming to terms with all of that not being real. But it’s a good difficult - it’s good to know that those things didn’t happen, but at the same time it’s difficult because they seemed so real. Like waking up and finding your whole life has been a dream.’

‘Or a nightmare.’

‘Yes - that’s right. Like waking up and finding out that you’ve been living your life in a nightmare. But that the nightmare was so real you’re not certain if it’s real or a nightmare.’

They walked for a while longer and came to the edge of the park.

‘Same time next week?’ - Laura said, smiling warmly at him.

‘Yeah - same time next week.’

Laura put her hand in her bag and pulled out a book.

‘It isn’t anything exciting - just a spy novel I found at the used book store, but I thought you might enjoy reading something to keep your mind busy.’

He looked at the book cover, and then looked at Laura. He smiled - ‘Thanks - see you next week.’

He stood and watched her walk from the park, and then turned and headed back to the halfway house. He sat in the garden and drank a cup of chamomile tea while reading the book Laura had given him.