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❝Madness.❞

I hate it.

I hated it, when people would stare at me with their eyes.
I hated it, when people would look at with pity.
I hated it, when people would treat me like I'm something else.

I hated it.

I hated all of it.

Every single of it.

I hated it, when my mother would treat me with some kind of caution.
I hated it, when she would always be wary of me.
I hated it, when she wouldn't let me play because apparently-

She's afraid that I might disappear.

I hated it even more when my father does the same.
He keeps on taking me to the doctors when I'm perfectly fine!
They always say they're quote on quote, "worried".

Why worry now when you never worried about me before?

I'm not insane.
I'm not a psychopath.

So what the fuck is this treatment?

I'm perfectly fine.
My body and mind is healthy,

So quit treating me like I'm fucked in the head.

They'd always lock me in my room-
Not even letting me out to play or anything.
I can't even meet my friends!

It feels like a prison.

My parents would always come to my room everyday and everytime.
Food would always be sent to my room everyday.

But then it turned into once a day.
Then four times a week.
Then three.
Then two.
Then one.

Then I'm forgotten.

My needs weren't forgotten.

But my being was.

Everyday, it gets worse..
The voices- gets louder.
It's deafening.

I'm alone.

I would hear scratching-
Moaning and noises in the night..
I would have sleepless nights.

I'm lonely.

Then I'd see figures-
Figures, entities, looming over me.
Beside me-
Behind me-
In front!

I need someone.

Voices, voices, voices-
Echoes in my head..
Noises from the closet!
Laughter under the bed.
Shivers, crawling down my spine.

Anybody.

I missed it.

I missed it, when people would stare at me with their eyes.
I missed it, when people would look at with pity.
I missed it, when people would treat me like I'm something else.

I missed those stares.

I missed it, when my mother would treat me with some kind of caution.
I missed it, when she would always be wary of me.
I missed it, when she told me I couldn't play outside.

I missed it all.

I missed it when my father did the same.
I missed it when he kept on taking me to the doctors.
I missed it when they were always so worried.

I missed every single of it.

I don't want to be alone.
I never want to be alone.
It doesn't feel like a prison.

It feels like I'm in Hell.

All I can see are white walls-
Steel bars for windows.

I hear it.
I hear all of it.

The voices,
The scratches,
The screams.

Why?

Why is this happening?

Why am I losing it?
Why am I missing the things I hated?
Why am I falling?

Deeper and deeper.

Why are the voices getting distorted?

Why are their silhouettes like shadows?

Why can't I see?
Why can't I feel?
Why can't I breath?

Why is my world, spiralling into madness?

[532 words]