I knew it wasn’t normal, to see these things. I’ve learned over time I have no control over it either, I was owned by it. The skeleton man. He invaded my mind, my thoughts, his fluid stride down a slightly familiar hallway. As he grew more distant to me, I felt an odd recognition of his surroundings…but I couldn’t fully identify it. I saw only the back of his slick hair until he approached the end of the hall and halted to a stop. A smooth pivot turn revealed his skeleton like face. Our eyes met, and that’s when I try to release myself from him. His eyes were strangely warm opposed to his clenched jaw. The visions continued, Skeleton man always playing the lead. “How often do these visions occur?” Dr Harmon asked. His eyes were determined, but for some reason I sensed fear in him. He didn't move often, his muscular calf sat like stone on the opposite knee. It was comforting to see him like this, him in his cherry brown leather love-seat, coffee on the glass table separating our seats. This is how I always thought of Dr. Harmon, or Ben as he restricted me from calling him. “Frequently” I admitted threw my teeth. Dr. Harmon had a way about him, wisdom, or something along those lines. I knew he saw me as much less than I saw him. I was inferior, obviously, I was insane. Insane. I laughed a little in my head. “what happens in these visions?” Dr Harmon urged. I stared up at the ceiling, the dark shadows and natural light from the French window danced together forming shapes to my liking. I was amused by the way they got along, mixing and mingling forming patterns from the blinds. “I prepare for the noble war..” I began.