I think the problem lies with me.

I'm sure I'm under too much pressure and experiencing hallucinations.

Maybe a good night's sleep will fix it.

I bid goodnight to my parents and walked towards the bedroom.

My father stopped me.

"Where are you going?"

"To sleep."

"That's not your room."

I've been sleeping on that bed for sixteen years.

If that's not my room, then where is my room?

My father pointed towards the kitchen with his hand. "Your bedding has been moved over there."

"What do you mean?"

"This is not your home. You are an outsider."