Trapped!

Trapped. That's what I feel. Trapped. Like, I'm in a lockless cage. Trapped. Like a prisoner. A prisoner in my own mind. The voices my only companion, haunting me, day in and day out. Even when no one is around, I'm not truly alone. They are always there. The voices, whispering to me. Not giving me break. I can't sleep at night, because they are whispering. Whispering my worst fears, my insecurities, every second, of every minute, of every hour, of everyday. There is no escape. Darkness surrounds me, even on the brightest of days. Even when the sun shines brightly, when it's warm, all I feel is cold, all I see is darkness.

I smile, I laugh, I joke. Try to hide what's eating me up on the inside. No one sees. Not really. I could scream it from the rooftops, but still no one would see, no one would notice. They don't see behind the carefully constructed façade, my mask, my smile, even though my eyes scream for someone to see, to notice that I'm not okay, for someone to care.

But they don't. They never do.

It hurts. It aches. It burns.

For nobody sees me, the real me. They only see what I want them to.

Why can no one see?

Why don't they care?

The voices tell me, it's because I exist. That they aren't really my friends. That they pity me. That they see a pathetic girl, who hangs out with them because she can't stand to be alone.

Are they right?

Is that what they see?

When I'm with them, I smile, wide and bright, big enough that my cheeks hurts with the effort to sustain it, when all I want to do is cry. They see a bright, bubbly and happy girl, who can see the brightness to everything and jokes with them.

They don't see the dullness in my eyes, my eyes watering, when I smile too brightly, too big. They don't see it. Any of it. They don't see when I space out, sometimes, when the voices become too loud to ignore.

You're a freak, they whisper.

They don't like you, they say.

You're a waste of space, they shout.

You're a nobody, they scream.

They don't notice when my smile is forced, when it fades when I think no one is looking. When, sometimes, I feel a stray, traitorous tear, slip unbidden my cheek.

They don't care. They never did, never will.

I'm there because they pity me, not because I'm wanted. I'm pathetic.

I see it in their eyes, sometimes. The pity, the hatred, the resentment.

I'm not liked, not wanted. I know that. I'm not kidding myself, there is no point, not when the is nothing to convince myself of.

So, I pick up the knife.

I stare at the beautiful, silver blade, glinting in the sunlight, the sharpness of the blade drawing my gaze.

And then, I make the first cut.

Where drops of crimson fall thickly from my arm, the brightness of it standing in stark contrast against my pale skin. No pain registers in my mind. Only sweet, sweet relief. I can now breathe easier.

You deserve this, the voices whisper.

They're right, of course. I do deserve this. So, I make another. And, another. And another and another and another, until I can't stop, the voices laughing, goading me to continue, to never stop. I feel no pain, only a relief I haven't felt in a long time. I feel numb. I slice and cut, the blade almost dancing across my skin, as I glide it across, my arm becoming stained with bright, crimson, beautiful, blood.

I don't stop.

My eyesight becomes foggy, I feel lightheaded, my mind blank. I blink, to try and dispel the wetness in my eyes, the dizziness and the bone deep exhaustion I'm feeling. My eyesight dims, the blade falls limply from my hand, making a clattering sound as it hits the floor, echoing around the room, but my hearing becomes clouded.

I distantly hear a door opening, but it doesn't register.

I feel the strangest sensation of falling, my eyesight disappearing...

Then, darkness...

The last thing I hear is someone screaming my name and the voices laughing...

I'm free...

... But am I really?

***

A/N: Hello guys.

I know, I owe you an explanation on why I haven't updated in ages. I felt that my stories have been taking a very dark turn, as you can tell from the story above. So, I decided to take a break from writing for a while, until my stories become happier and brighter, but that didn't quite work out.

On the bright side, I'm in university now. It still hasn't quite sunken in yet, even though I've been here three weeks already. I'll try to update again soon, but no promises. Sorry, guys.

On a brighter note, Season 12 of Supernatural starts on Thursday. Anyone looking forward to it? I know that I am. They should definitely make Destiel canon. I am looking forward to seeing what happens next.

Thank you for reading.

@Triquetra123