As the adopted daughter of Elizabeth Olsen and her husband Robbie Arnett, I was no stranger to mental health issues. And I unintentionally had fantasies of being in bad situations.

I was standing on the bus, a grown man's gaze a constant, unsettling presence. He kept looking at me, and every time I dared to check, our eyes would lock. Two seats opened up ahead, though I only registered one at first. I saw him glance, maybe even nod, towards it, and a strange, dark part of me, the one that craved the edge of danger, was tempted to go sit there. But then he moved past the first, taking the window seat instead, and only then did I realize there had been two. It wasn't until a stop later that a seat finally opened up across from my friend, and I sank into it. Even then, I kept catching him look, though I tried desperately not to look back. My friend, across from me, remained oblivious. When he finally got off, I was looking at her, and a coincidental smile stretched across my face just as the man, through the bus window, smiled and waved at me before walking down the street. My smile faltered, a cold knot tightening in my stomach. Was it harmless, or had my mind, as usual, spun something mundane into a prelude of danger? The bus pulled away, leaving me to wonder. My stop was the one after, and I did hope he was NOT on my connecting bus.

When I get home, Lizzie and Robbie were cooking in the kitchen together. I liked the sound of their laughs. It was the best welcome. I entered the kitchen and Lizzie greeted me.