My name is Caitlyn Walker. I am fifteen years old; and I don't know what to believe anymore. I am writing to you from my room in the Scarlett Plains Home for the Mentally Ill, accompanied by my nurse Olga.She may seem like she is breathing down my neck, but we have actually grown quite close. It is Olga's duty to supervise me at all times. All times except when I lay myself to sleep with the help of a mild tranquilizer. Every night, I get the shot into my arm by a nurse with Parkinson's disease. Yet, the staff still wonders why my mattress is blood stained every morning.......I woke up and...