That made a kind of sense."What is your name, anyway?" I asked."Call me Jasmine," he said.I blinked, and pulled a face. Schizophrenics don't generally...know when tobe polite."Please," the boy begged, "call me Jasmine. It's who I wanted to be."I considered this, carefully. Was he having a laugh at my expense? If so,I couldn't see it."Okay, Jasmine," I said at last. "You realise that this policeman's goingto think I'm a fucking nutcase, talking to an imaginary friend." You are a fucking nutcase,. "Father I like her, not love, but I like her she is fun and nice to be around" I answered honestly "I would never intentionally hurt her" Fine that matter is done lets get you sown up as that is the next stage of this life of the warrior," he said helping me up.An hour later I was stitched up, cleaned up and with a bandage around my wound. My father assured me he had made more noise as the surgeon stitched. Both of us headed down to the library to find Lizzie again. In the library she was deep. More

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