i had to meet with my caseworker today. i get there, i take a seat in the waiting room. wait, and wait. i wait some more. people staring, people talking. i freak out. an actual freak out. full blown, all the way. couldnt take it. the stares, the whispers, the ticking clock so loud in my ears. i freaked. i didnt mean to, but i did. scared the fuck out of the people who caused it. (ha) finally, they let me in. i meet with cindy. she smiles politely, nervously. she goes over my case. she nods, nods at my file, nods at nothing. i can hear the people in the surrounding cubicles. they talk on the phone, they talk to noone. they inform people i cant see about the girl in the waiting room. the crazy girl. “..she was so weird....she just started going crazy...and her face...her face had all these earings in it....” earings? earings?!! theyre not fucking earings unless theyre in my fucking ear whore!!!!! cindy jumps. i calm down. i calm down just a bit. just enough to stay in my seat. i havent slept. im tired, im nervous, im weird. im always tired, im always nervous, im always weird. she types my life into a computer...types away...types some more. the computer beeps. i jump. i dont like beeps. cindy jumps. she doesnt like it when the weird girl sitting across her desk jumps because of a beep. cindy tells me that the computer is telling her im dead. di craven is dead. i look down, i seem to be here. i dont exactly feel alive, but im not dead. i look at her. she types some more. worried look. i dont like worried looks. she makes phone calls. more phone calls. di craven never was. not only am i dead, but i was never alive. there is no record of my birth in america. they know im dead, but they never knew i was alive. i tell her im alive. i push up my sleeve, show her my arm as proof. she shows me her computer screen. di craven is dead. di craven died in a hospital of an overdose. im dead. im dead and i never lived.