Dr Leary sat opposite me, tapping her pen against the clipboard in her hands. Her white jacket living up to cliché expectations, and her blonde hair tied back into a bun.

Tuesday, September 11, 2001. < br/>< br/>That morning in the coffee shop. I'll never forget it. < br/>Even when I sleep, the nightmares will still haunt me.< br/>< br/>< br/>Forever.

Because I am different?

The life of another can be hard to follow, but what if your life is theirs?