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  • Writer's pictureJessica M. Simpkiss

Ready. Set.Write.

You wake up in a strange room, dressed in white scrubs. The room is small and only contains the bed your laying in. The door has a small, square window in it, but it’s dark on the other side. Slowly, as you wake up, you realize you're in a mental institute. You begin to panic. Heart racing, you try and recall the events that lead to where you are, but your mind is a blank slate. Then, the door opens and a man in street clothes stands in front of you. He holds out his hand to you and says “we don’t have much time, June. Let’s go.”

Your name’s not June.


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