Normal? Part 1

I don't know what I want in life. Does anyone? Don't answer that, I'm sure some people do. But I am not some people. I am my own person. I believe what I believe, and I know I believe that I don't know what I want to do anymore. I just graduated collage. With a degree in Parapsychology. What the hell good is that for? I need a job though, gods know what will happen if I don't get one. I don't even want to think about that!

Sitting up in bed after she was deep in thought, Desdemona Dragomir was feeling worried about her future. What to do? Does anyone know? Can anyone help her? All these thoughts plus more swim in her head as if they were goldfish in a bowl. She looks around her pitch black room and notices something strange. She can't see anything.

Usually, even during the foggiest nights Desdemona could see something. She had fluorescent clocks in the room and an auto shop right across the street. But she can see nothing but pitch black. Her cat's glowing eyes didn't even pierce the night.

"The power must have gone out on the whole street," she tries to turn on the television. Nothing.

"That must be it then!" she looks around the room once, hoping her eyes have adjusted better. Not even a shadow is cast that she can see. Desdemona can feel her ears tingle, and the TV turns on. The nightly news plays.

"And in further news, a girl has been admitted into Oakland Hills today, but claims she isn't really insane. Stay tuned for the whole story," the TV clicks off. The room, however possible, is darker than before. Or, at least it feels darker. It feels closer, colder and even heavier, this dark.

"I thought Oakland Hills was for the criminally insane. It might be a good place to test out my new degree. I wish I had a light, maybe the pressure in my chest would go away," Desdemona is used to talking to herself. She has been alone in her house for so long with just a black cat for company and protection.

Reaching to the chair by the bed, Desdemona grabs her jeans and digs around in the pocket. After pulling out a shiny metal object, she flips a switch and hits a button and waits. In two seconds, a picture of her favorite band devours the dark pressing in closer. The illumination from the tiny little iPod brightens the whole room.

Setting the tiny night-light on her bed-side table, she turns over and allows the comforters to swallow her into their warmth. Now only thinking about Oakland Hills, Desdemona quickly falls asleep, and she dreamt of the place most people don't usually think about...