XCVIII | Some Confession

You knew Tammie before.
Who is she, Fiona?


The doctor’s voice is soft,

Like an angel’s.

But the way she says

is threatening.

She knows.
She doesn’t need to ask.


What answer
does she want me to give?


She tilts her head.
Smiles wider.

Turns back to her keyboard

and continues to type.

The sterile office
is filled with the clicking

of keys.

She’s my best friend,
I whisper.

The typing stops for a moment.

Because she’s
holding down

the backspace button.

She nods at me
and continues typing.

We met in secondary school.
She was my only friend.

I watch the doctor’s face.

We had lots of…fun together.
The only time I’ve had fun.


She’s facing me again.

Her eyes

her hands

on the table in front of her.

No more typing.


What happened next?


I hurt her.
She ended up in hospital.

The doctor shakes her head.


Why did you hurt your best friend?


I stare at her.

What does she want?

I thought we would be together.
She didn’t want me anymore.

Her eyes



So what did you do?


My head is spinning.

It is more painful
to say it out loud

then I thought it would be.

‘I almost… killed her.
‘But it wasn’t on purpose!’

Then, the doctor

turns into an angel.

Blurry, hazy light,

her white trench coat
like holy robes around her.

I wipe


The angel is gone.

Only a doctor is left,
where the angel sat.

A sad smile on her face.


You remember hurting her?


I nod carefully.

At my house.
We skipped class together.

It seems these details
are not important to her.

She makes no attempt

to write it down.

Doesn’t she already know this?

Admitting them,
confessing them like this

makes me furious.


I am sidetracked.

I remember.
It’s good I remember.

She smiles
a businesslike smile.


You have to remember, Fiona,
this happened

before you came to Wonderland.

We didn’t do anything
to make you forget this.


‘What’s your point?’
I snap.

I grip the edge of her desk
with my hands,

nails scratching its pure white surface.

Her businesslike smile
doesn’t waver.


It is only good for your recovery
if you think about

what really happened.


She turns back to her computer.
Hands poised to type.

The door to her office

before I can yell at her.

The angmoh nurse
taps me gently on my shoulder.

I don’t budge.

I stand up,
as if to go,

but I glare.

I glare and glare—

hoping she’ll drop dead
from my glare.

She nods,

I don’t know why,

and gives her computer
a genuine smile.


Take the pill, Fiona.
It’s for your own good.


Then the door clicks shut
behind me.




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