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  I think I really am becoming more sadistic in nature:) oh well:D I'll let you guess this one. Sheesh, it freaks me out.

  I feel afraid.

  It's the kind of fear you get when you're hoping for something so badly, you start to fear that if you don't get it, you'll shatter into a thousand pieces.

  My breaths are becoming constricted, and I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. My hands are shaking, and I feel like puking. My lips can't stop moving, and I feel like crying.

  But I can't cry. By some sick law of nature, I can't cry. I can't let out the fear I'm feeling, because it's no good reason to cry.

  I feel afraid.

  I don't know what I'll do if I can't make it. Don't you feel the same way? Or am I just too different from you?

  What kind of hope can I keep at this turning point?

  I think I'm going mad. People tell me I'm mad all the time, but I don't believe them.

  How can I be mad?

  It's impossible. But I hate those glances. Those furtive glances they shoot at me when they think I'm not looking.

  It hurts.

  It hurts so much.

  They are dragging me to this dark room. I can't feel my fingers, because they're wound so tightly around my body, I can barely feel them anymore.

  Where are they taking me too?

  I'm not mad.

  Please believe me.

  I am afraid.

  Sometimes, I hear them at night, talking about me. They talk about important things, but I'm not allowed to tell.

  These things are very, very important. So, I stay up all night, pretending to sleep so I can hear.

  I try to keep myself awake, but I fall asleep.

  But I can hear them.

  They whisper about people like me. They talk about chairs.

  But no, I'm not allowed to talk about it.

  They warn me to run, to run away! But I can't!

  I'm not allowed to talk about it.

  This hallway is frightening me. Why is it so scary?

  I can't see anything. It's weird.

  I hear metal. Can you hear it? It seems so dull and boring.

  I am afraid.

  I don't like this fear. It seems unbelonged.

  Did I tell you that I can hear things at night?

  I don't think they are real people.

  They are the nice ones.

  I can hear the metal again.

  Something hard cuffs my wrists. I can some whizzing sound, like a generator.

  I am afraid.

  Was this a chair?

  They were warning me about it.

  They say the chair has electricity.

  They are the mad ones.

  What are they doing to me?

  I think I am going to meet those people who whisper to me at night.

  I think they sat on this chair before.

  Am I afraid?

  I think so.


  I am not mad.

  Am I?

  Why don't people answer me?

  Wait, I can't talk.

  They are going to zap me.

  They think they're trying to cure me of my madness?

  Well, they're wrong.

  Completely wrong.

  I am mad.

  A mad person knows, but she never speaks.

  She never speaks the truth.

  I am afraid.

  Am I mad?

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