They say I'm crazy.
I don't believe them.
They keep me in a white room which smells of lime. This room is rather bare. I do not have anything to amuse myself with.
They ask me to sleep. When I refuse, they stick a needle into my arm. I do not like sleep. It brings nightmares.
They do not give me sharp objects. They know what I will do if they did.
I ask them why I was kept here. They say to keep me safe.
But I do not feel safe. I feel haunted. I feel the need to escape.
Sometimes two people, other than the nurses in spotless white, hesitantly step in. Each movement cautious, tinged with reluctance. They are my parents. They say they don't have a choice. That they need to keep safe.
But safe from what?
Myself, they say.
Such absurdity.
Why would I need to be safe from myself?
I need to be safe from the voices.
They whisper the most horrid of things, they bellow in the most agonizing of pains.
They scream, they roar, they cry and cry and cry.
They say they want to take me away with them.
They say they like me too much.
They say they like the darkness of my soul.
The darkness that they planted.
But I will not let them.
No one is going to take my soul away.
One day, when I hear the click, click, click of heels in the tiled hallway, I get ready. When the door squeals open, I hit the nurse as hard as I can. And I run.
"The girl in 206 is running!" She yells. She tries to catch up with me.
Days of inactivity have taken their toll on me. My legs ache and they sprint across the floor. My eyes land on stairs. I dash up them.
I am on a roof.
The breeze kisses my skin. It feels amazing.
I want to feel this breeze envelope my body.
So I walk to the edge and look down.
The asphalt looks so soft. So inviting.
My heart is thudding with excitement. I am going to fly.
So I jump. Into the ground's embrace, carried by the wind. I have escaped.
"You have done it. You are going to be one of us" the voice says.
I am confused.
The last thing I feel is unexplainable pain.
