Opening the window in Brandon's room, I climb out and carefully make my way down the shingles as I used to when I was insane. I get on my knees at the edge, turn around, inch off until my lower half is dangling then drop down onto the front lawn. Hitting the ground and falling onto my butt—I swear that the ground has gotten harder since last year. Getting up, I walk off down the street like a person who has escaped a psychiatric hospital. Was sneaking out through the window necessary? I just couldn't face the awkward goodbyes that would occur if I let through the front door like...