Dillon heard me say, "I'm leaving." "I'll go crazy if I stay here another day."
He assumed that my emotional fluctuations were caused by my pregnancy. "Baby, what's wrong? We've had a fantastic life here.
I went crazy and became furious. "I don't want to keep getting those nasty packages that don't have a name on them!" The dead rat came first, followed by the kitten. What comes next? A corpse?
Dillon didn't appear to know what to do. "Come on, babe, maybe that kid is playing tricks on you again."
I grabbed some of my hair. "No, there's no one." There is nothing visible on the camera.
I became rude and thin-spoken.
He gave me a worried expression. "Maybe I should take you to the doctor." The strain of pregnancy—
I was not interested in hearing it. All I wanted to do was leave.
At last, Dillon agreed to move if I accompanied him to the doctor and behaved properly.
At the hospital, I completed a number of assessment questions and handed them to the doctor.
When Dillon became anxious, he squeezed my hand. "Doctor, is my girlfriend sick?"
After reviewing my responses, the doctor gave me a solemn nod. "You have high scores for depression, with mild psychotic-like images and panic attacks."
I was shocked by his words. "Not a chance."
How could I experience hallucinations and sadness at the same time?
As Dillon and the doctor discussed the diagnosis and treatment, I lost interest. It all sounded insane.
I refused to take the medication. I put one hand on my round, silky belly. "I won't take any medicine." The infant is inside.
"You are young, babe," observed Dillon. Later, we can have children. You don't have to put your health at risk for one right now."
My face went white. "What are you talking about?" I have a living being inside of me. How come you're so icy?
Dillon scowled. "Jenn, you're not feeling well." You might want to keep the child, but are you confident you can be a good mother in this situation?
It was shocking to me that he was saying those things.
"You mean I'm insane and can't look after my own baby?" With a weak voice, I asked.
He stepped forward. "That's not how I meant it. You simply must seek assistance, or else you may—
Before he could continue, I snapped. The coffee table was cleared by me. The floor gleamed when the glass shattered.
Blood trickled down from my sliced fingers, but I felt nothing.
"Stop!" I let out a yell. "Stop uttering that. I will not take any medications. This baby is going to be born. Don't stop me.
I looked at him as if I had never seen him before.
Dillon paused, and his expression was a mix of emotions. "Do you even know what you've become, Jenn?"
I remained silent. He stated, "You've become paranoid and quick to anger." I have no idea who you are.
The sound of my laughter was cold. "Okay." If you wish to end the relationship, say so. All right, then we're done. You won't get a dime; the baby is mine.
I then went to the bedroom to prepare myself.
Dillon made an attempt to stop me. Take it easy, Jenn. Now that you are pregnant and unemployed, where will you go?
I pivoted. "It's your fault if I die out there."
His expression hardened. "Don't say dumb things."
I ignored him and continued packing. When I moved in, I simply had one bag and not much else. After packing it full of clothes and toiletries, I dragged it in the direction of the entrance.
He pleaded, "It's late—ten o'clock," "Please don't do anything stupid."
I pulled the door open. He grabbed me by the arm.
"Release!" I snapped out of it and went outside.
The next minute, I felt terrible pain at the back of my head. All went dark, and I collapsed to the floor.