I'm fine... Am I fine? I think I'm fine. when people ask "how are you?" I always, Always, reply "I'm fine," and I don't lie, I WOULDN'T lie. I guess I should take my word for it.

I'm fine.

I'm fine.

I'm fine.

Breathe in, breathe out. It's all ok.

Look out the window and feel the cold night air on my face. It smells of rain and ice. How late is it? Even the street lights have turned off. There are silhouettes on the pavement below. Is that a person? No... No, it's not.

Breathe.

I have to remember to breathe.

Did I lock my front door? Yes. No? Get up. Check. The door was locked. Crawl back into bed and continue to look down at the street below. There's a touch of moonlight illuminating the road, and I can see the light on in one of the houses on the other side. I wonder what they're doing. I wonder if they're more or less fine than I am.

I shift a little and pages full of dark, spidery writing fall to the ground. I swear under my breath but I don't move to clear it- my floor is already covered in paper- a couple more pages will hardly make a difference.

I lie back and close my eyes. My bed is not comfortable and my mind spirals further and further and further and further and- was that a noise?... No.. I hope not. Maybe it was the wind.

I'm fine.