Just Like Heaven

I didn't want to,
but I will call the police.

I'm sleeping. It's a dream.
It's one of those dreams
and you know you're dreaming.

- How do you keep getting in here?
- It's you who's in here.

Oh, my.
This is more serious than I thought.
Go away, you don't exist.
I'm gonna ask you
a series of questions.

I want you to answer honestly.
Has your recent
alcohol consumption increased?

Yeah, so?
Are you hearing voices or seeing
things that aren't quite real to you?

As a matter of fact, yeah.
Have you recently sought consult
from a mental health care professional?

What? How do you know?
Stay away from me.

Do you feel paranoid,
like people are out to get you?

Why are you asking
so many questions?

I'll take that as a yes.
Listen to me.

You have fantasized,
quite convincingly,

that you've rented an apartment that,
in fact, belongs to somebody else.

Pick up that pillow.
Pick it up. It's OK.
There's a small red stain
on the back

where I once spilled
cherry cough syrup.

Yes, that's it.
How else would I know that?

Or the fact that these sheets that
you're now soiling are from Nordstrom.

I still have the receipt,
it's in that drawer.

Open it up and check.
I think you need to
come to terms with the fact

that you may be mentally ill.
- Really?
- Yes.

This is my apartment.
These are my sheets.

That's my nightstand.
That's my picture...

- Where's my picture?
- What picture?

There was a picture there of my...
There was a picture
right there on the nightstand.

- That was empty when I moved in.
- It was just there.

You know what? I've had enough.
I am calling the police.

- No, no, no, no.
- It's too late.

What'd you do to my phone?
Why can't I...?
You stay right there.
I'm gonna use the one in the kitchen.