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Description
"Hello again, Marcus. Do you remember me? We met a long time ago, it must have been five or six years."
   Marcus rocked back and forth just like he had done when we first met. That part of him hadn't changed. His family had contacted me and told me that he wasn't using anymore, but that he had been suffering from a psychosis all this time, most likely triggered by the drugs. No one was able to approach him fully.
   "Marcus?"
   He stopped. Then he looked at me. Intensely. He didn't let his eyes off me. I met his gaze without faltering.
   "Your mother tells me you're clean now. That's a great accomplishment. You must be proud."
   "Hmm…" Marcus began shifting from one side to the other, holding himself as if tied by a restraining jacket. He ripped his gaze away from me and focused on the floor.
   "Why don't you tell me what's on your mind, Marcus? Tell me what you're thinking of."
   "Demons…all the demons…they're inside you! I can tell, you cannot hide from me!"
He continued to shift and rock back and forth.
   "There are no demons inside me, I promise you. At some level, I think you must be aware of that. I imagine it must be painful to live with these demons around you, even if they are just a figment of your imagination."
   "They're real. Real! No one believes me…I'll show them…"
   He looked frightened. "What scares you so? You seem so unsafe. Talk to me."
   "They want to kill me. Just waiting…waiting for the right time. But I won't give it to them, won't give it to them…won't…"
   "Tell me of these people who want you dead."
   "Shades…shadows. I never see them, they hide. They hide, but I- WILL- FIND- THEM!
   'and I will make them pay."
   I could easily tell that Marcus was very sick and troubled. I would not be able to reach him, no matter how much I attempted to. I tried not to let it get to me. I patted on his shoulder, but he shied away at my touch. He started shaking his head.
   I sat with Marcus for the rest of the hour, despite everything, trying to find a way to connect with him, but failing along the way. He was too deranged to keep a normal conversation. At the end, all I could do was to wish him the very best and leave. I gave my sympathy to his family and assured them that I had met many in my profession that had pulled through situations like Marcus's.

I left his home and went to my own. Marcus didn't leave my mind for the rest of the day, but eventually I had to let him go. I wrote about him in my journal, so that, if I one day found a way to help him, I could return.

Description
"Hello again, Marcus. Do you remember me? We met a long time ago, it must have been five or six years."
   Marcus rocked back and forth just like he had done when we first met. That part of him hadn't changed. His family had contacted me and told me that he wasn't using anymore, but that he had been suffering from a psychosis all this time, most likely triggered by the drugs. No one was able to approach him fully.
   "Marcus?"
   He stopped. Then he looked at me. Intensely. He didn't let his eyes off me. I met his gaze without faltering.
   "Your mother tells me you're clean now. That's a great accomplishment. You must be proud."
   "Hmm…" Marcus began shifting from one side to the other, holding himself as if tied by a restraining jacket. He ripped his gaze away from me and focused on the floor.
   "Why don't you tell me what's on your mind, Marcus? Tell me what you're thinking of."
   "Demons…all the demons…they're inside you! I can tell, you cannot hide from me!"
He continued to shift and rock back and forth.
   "There are no demons inside me, I promise you. At some level, I think you must be aware of that. I imagine it must be painful to live with these demons around you, even if they are just a figment of your imagination."
   "They're real. Real! No one believes me…I'll show them…"
   He looked frightened. "What scares you so? You seem so unsafe. Talk to me."
   "They want to kill me. Just waiting…waiting for the right time. But I won't give it to them, won't give it to them…won't…"
   "Tell me of these people who want you dead."
   "Shades…shadows. I never see them, they hide. They hide, but I- WILL- FIND- THEM!
   'and I will make them pay."
   I could easily tell that Marcus was very sick and troubled. I would not be able to reach him, no matter how much I attempted to. I tried not to let it get to me. I patted on his shoulder, but he shied away at my touch. He started shaking his head.
   I sat with Marcus for the rest of the hour, despite everything, trying to find a way to connect with him, but failing along the way. He was too deranged to keep a normal conversation. At the end, all I could do was to wish him the very best and leave. I gave my sympathy to his family and assured them that I had met many in my profession that had pulled through situations like Marcus's.

I left his home and went to my own. Marcus didn't leave my mind for the rest of the day, but eventually I had to let him go. I wrote about him in my journal, so that, if I one day found a way to help him, I could return.