I didn’t always live in a nightmare. I didn’t always have conversations with the voice in my head. I wasn’t always watched by disembodied shadows. I didn’t always hear tortured screams and maniacal laughter or my name in empty rooms. I used to be “happyâ€. “Happy†is an illusion created to hide all the pain, madness and fear. It was never real. But I used to experience that bliss, “Ignorance is bliss,†they say. That bliss is gone. I used to smile and laugh all the time. I used to think, or be thoughtful. Before the clouds, and locks. Before the black fog that covers my thoughts and locks me out of my mind palace descended. Before my mind became my thoughts eternal asylum.
My mind palace used to be a library, with shelves and shelves of slightly organized books and a messy desk covered in doodles and stories and old papers. Thats gone now. Instead there are asylum beds. And in those beds, strapped down so they don’t rip each other apart, are my thoughts. It’s when I go in that they begin to scream and struggle and cry and rip, their cries dragging me deeper into a hell hole of their creation, claws glinting in the low light. Every time it’s harder to leave. And the Voice. It talks to them. It calms them, quiets them, and then turns them into something worse. Much worse.
The Voice is my master, I follow it even if I can’t. It tells me to cut and bleed and hurt. It punishes me when I can’t. It screams. It won’t SHUT UP!! PLEASE SHUT UP!! The only way it will ever stop, that the shadows will stop watching me, and my thoughts will no longer be trapped in my mind asylum anymore, is if you kill me now and save me from tis nightmare I’m living. Please, I beg you. Please…I want to be free. Please….Just help me end it now. Kill me now.