I always kept a knife by my bed, just in case. One morning when I woke up, it was three a.m. and I saw a silhouette at the foot of my bed. I slowly and carefully reached for my knife and in that moment it charged at me. I stabbed it in the chest and it fell to the floor, there was blood everywhere. My mother came upstairs to figure out what the commotion was. I cracked the door open and held the knife behind my back; my hands were bloody. When she saw me she screamed and tried to grab me, but I was able to close the door quickly enough. It accidentally closed on her hand and she screamed at me and called the police. They took me in an ambulance and I passed out. I awoken to a bright light and asked "What's going on?" The nurse responded, saying I'm at the psychotic hospital, that I have schizophrenia. I can swear I don't. I explained to her what happened and she said there was no one in my room and I stabbed myself in the chest, barely missing my heart. I told her that was b.s. They locked me in the padded room saying I was a danger to the staff and other residents. It's truly evil to leave one to their thoughts. Oh well, I guess I'm just that crazy person now.
