Dear Insanity

Chapter 1: Let us Begin

She took my hand and led me to the family room were her little brother worked up a tantrum trying to piece together some miscellaneous Legos. I will admit I'm not too fond of kids, but after seeing the way she looked at him, I couldn't help but accept him. Something about the scene in front of her brought upon a smile that I couldn't stop looking at. Her golden blue eyes held so much emotion and expression, and her smile brought me closer to her heart. She looks me up and down and tells me to close my eyes, and without much hesitation, I do. I hear the rustle of feet on carpet and then the returning thump on the couch as she returns to her seat beside me. "Alright, open!", she yells with an eager tone. With a thought of hope, I open my eyes, but find myself in another world of sorts.

I awake with the distant thoughts of love, but it's warmth is encased with the dreadful feeling of a good dream passing away. While Caressing my messy hair with my left hand, I slide my other arm across the floor and take in the serene coolness of the metal tiles. Comparable to opening a window on a sunny morning, the light from the Purified white room I lay in reflects its own source and blinds me.

While rummaging through my head for answers, an intercom comes to life with a metallic fizzing. A calm voice, void of gender, gently enlightens me, "In about thirty seconds your surroundings will fall cover with grids until the environment reflects that of another room, building, or landscape. You have two minutes to view a difficult scenario, retract emotion, and carry through until you believe all is taken care of. If you fail to maintain composure, this test will restart, good luck". The voice leaves as it entered, with an echoing crack and an eerie after pause. As foreseen, the walls around me cave in on themselves until I'm left sitting on the bedside of a young girl. Her wavering ponytail faces me, and soft cries exit her tortured body. My mind tells me to scream, and fear tells me to run, but with what little control I have, I urge myself to stay calm. I reach out with a shaking hand and rest it on her shoulder. Her head snaps around to face me, and I can clearly see the tears leaving her cheek, and the blood escaping her arm. Her brown eyes look down and she drops her head onto my shoulder. Without much thought I pick her up into my arms and walk downstairs. The girls conscious slowly fails her as I lay her up on the couch, and search for a bandage. Once found, I carefully wrap the soft fabric around her arm, covering the haunting marks of self inflicted pain. Her head leans heavily to one side and I try desperately to ease her mind, but she won't wake. I pick her up and place her in my lap, with my arms around her I sway back and forth, but not a motion comes from her lifeless body. I feel a cold rush through my lower stomach and I look down to see a wet stain fill in the cloth of my shirt. Without lifting her clothing, I picture the markings on her lower thigh, and try to deny the extent of her violence, but dreams like these don't end.