"Alright then, define freedom"
Most people define freedom as being allowed to say and do what you wish, I however, define freedom as an open road, a garden brimming with opportunities and adventures- but most importantly being able to go wherever you want, whenever you want.
I was snapped out of my thoughts when my psychiatrist said my name;
"Hollie?"
"Yeah? Oh, sorry."
"It's fine. I expect you to go into extensive daydreams that replace human interaction- that's what maladaptive daydreaming is. Now, how long do you think you've had MD? Has it always happened to you?"
"I remember when I was seven, I was just sat at my desk in English. All I remember is feeling as though I'd just awoken from sleep and my teacher screaming at me for not paying attention. I told my mum but all she did was say that I shouldn't sleep in class."
"That sounds like a bad case of it, I assume it's gotten better as you've gotten older and you can control it more now, correct?"
"Yes"
"Good. You need to try and control it. If you feel as though you're drifting away, stand up, have a drink, shuffle in your seat. Anything that will keep your mind off of it."
We had gotten to speaking about freedom when I told him that when I daydream, I feel free and so much more happier than I do in reality.
"I've made our next appointment for next Tuesday. I'll give you some medication to help you sleep too. Just sign here please"
I signed the prescription and thanked Dr.Long. I liked talking to Dr.Long- he really helped me.
I ambled out of Dr.Longs office and went to the pharmacy to get my medication.
"Doxepin", I read the name on the bottle aloud, questioning whether or not it was a good idea. I mean, the doctor prescribed it right, so it must be good? Even though I haven't been getting to sleep for only a few days? I'd still better take it. I'm tired and need to get atleast a nap.
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A loud beeping sound pulled me out of my slumber, I reached over and my eyes adjusted to the bright light of my phone, yawning, I check the time.
"3am? Who would be texting at 3am?", I said, hushed. It turned out that it was a drunk Kat texting me about a guy she was hooking up with. She could really be a slut sometimes. I laid my head back on the pillow and tried as hard as I could to sleep, but I knew I probably wouldn't be able to until tomorrow night.
I hauled myself out of bed and ambled into the living room. I switched on the TV and all of a sudden the news appeared. I was confused as to why the news was on at this time, it usually aired at 6- but I decided to listen anyway.
The woman began to speak, and what she said next absolutely terrified me:
"WARNING: Please stay inside your house and DO NOT answer your door if anyone knocks! A man has escaped from prison and is searching for a place to stay hostage. He has already knocked on 3 doors- police have told us- and he will continue searching around the Croydon area. Police hope to find him by tomorrow but in the mean time please stay indoors and ensure all of your windows and doors are locked. This man is not safe."
I stood in shock, my mouth hanging open as though I was in some sort of comedy film. I quickly turned off the TV and checked all of my doors and windows. I also turned every single light off so it looked like no one was in, and ran into my room with my tiny havenese puppy, Scarlett. I crawled under the covers, snuggling close to Scarlett and muttered under my breath that everything was going to be okay.
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