When the doctor had touched her arm, Delilah, in her mind, still thought there were spiders on her. She even swiped at his hands, shortly realizing what they really were when she actually touched them. Her blue eyes stared fearfully into his, while her chest heaved from her quick erratic breathing. She groaned and covered her face with her hands again. Night terrors? A sarcastic chuckle escaped her and she uncovered her face, pushing herself into an upright position. 

"No. No, I don't know." Delilah closed her eyes and choked out a soft sob. She rested her elbow on her thigh, then put her forehead in her hand. "I'm losing my mind." She was silent for a moment, thinking. "I keep having these dreams about... there's always this man I see. And everytime I see him, something fucked up happens. I was chased by dead people. There were spiders all over me." The more she thought, the more she figured there was more wrong with her than what they had told her. To be having such crazy, lucid dreams like that? To keep seeing the same man Every time?