PROLOUGE
It’s White, that’s the simple thing about this place. Its serene, that’s the beauty, it’s a shelter, and I’m very lucky to have it. Nobody else can, at least that’s what I think. It’s my place, a place for me to hide away and find my peace of mind. I would go crazy without it, I would die without it. This place is my paradise, away from the place we call ‘world’
You see, I haven’t ever been normal, haven’t ever fit into this society.
Whenever the world feels like its going to spin out of control, I escape to this place. My mom wants me to get out of my ‘shell’ and become an actual human being. The thing is, I don’t want to be. I want to stay in this white world where nothing bad will ever happen, if I don’t want it to.
At least that’s what I used to think.
That this white room was a heaven and that everything was good.
Everything is bad, whether you control that thing or not; it will always end up bad.
So, why did my white room turn from white to black?
Why couldn’t it have stayed my safe heaven forever?
I ask these questions all the time.
The answer: I’m just dead inside.
