The pills rattle in the orange plastic bottle as I shake one into my palm. My hand trembles slightly, the way it always does when the shadows start stretching too long. Through the window, the streetlamp flickers on, casting an eerie yellow glow across my kitchen table. The clock ticks, each second like a hammer against my skull. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

I swallow the pill dry, feeling it catch in my throat before sliding down. The voices are already murmuring tonight, quieter than yesterday but still there, like a television left on in another room. I know better than to acknowledge them. That's how they get in.

The reflection in the window catches my eye - just my face staring back at me - but for a split second, something's different. My eyes are wrong, darker than they should be, pupils swallowing the iris completely. When I blink, it's gone.

'Am I losing it again?' I whisper to the empty room. The only response is the continued ticking of the clock and the faint sound of a song I can't quite place playing in the distance.