the suicide room † mgc

one

korey

for the past three years, i had fell into some sort of routine. i mean the activities i did had no sense of order to them but they didnt really vary much. however, somethings fit in with my so-called 'routine' and never seem to change. for example, every single weekday at exactly 15:02 the front door would slam shut followed by the high pitched distress of my little sister's complaining, a topic which always seemed to circulate school, in particular; me, and the fact that i hadnt gone in three years. yes, i was 16. yes, by law, i was supposed to be going. but three years ago, two days before the start of school after the christmas holidays ( 2nd of january 2012 to be exact ) i had locked myself in my room. since then, id never actually left. this event in itself seemed to haunt my sister and her non existant reputation and place on the social ladder. even after three years people still refered to her as something along the lines of 'that freak's sister' which is pretty acurate if you asked me.

the event that had made me into a recluse wasnt actually as heartbreaking or as sadistically entertaining as you might believe it to be. throughout the entire festive period, eventhough i was interacting with people physically, i felt detatched, like i wasnt there mentally. and so, after my last relative left and my strained smile dropped from my face, i dragged myself to my place of comfort, which just so happened to be my bedroom; pulled down the black out blinds; turned out the lights; locked the door and went to bed. simple as.

i had to admit, i had beaten myself up about it regularly, wondering exactly why i did what i did and why i couldnt just go outside and be normal. and yet, i couldnt bring myself to even lift the blinds. the darkness was my comfort, my shield. from what? i was yet to find out.

still, my sisters words rang through my ears, day and night, forcing me to drown them out with music blasting through headphones that i never really had the chance to enjoy. the reality i had once knew was but a distant memory. this was my reality now, one filled with darkness and static sounds and silent screams and endless i-dont-know's.

one where my only escape now was through the internet, cliché i know, but it was true. everytime i got too bored of looking at the same four walls i would log on to a website i knew would bring me relief. it was a sort of role playing / alternate reality game. you created your character and you made friends with people just like you, you created worlds that you wished to be true and shared them with the select few you chose. it was a virtual paradise, for me atleast.

in the world i had created, it was filled with a gothic, slightly dark scenery. when you entered through the 'restrictions' you were greated by a vast stone castle, which inside held no comfort but a blood orange glow against the obsidian decoration and makeshift furniture. there wasnt much else in my world except a large tree with hanging vines that lit up amber dew drops against the murkey red sky that sometimes projected memories and dreams at my request. a single wooden swing suspended just off the ground a couple of meters away, which allowed me to see the tree and the projections perfectly.

it wasnt the greatest creation ever but those who i allowed to enter seemed to like it, as did i. these people claimed to be just like me, set in a state of eternal depression without any obvious reason why. over the years we had bonded, we had become friends. we related on so many levels, even to the extent where we all wanted an escape, something much more than a silly game. and so we created a plan, one which would end all suffering, one which could never leave the virtual walls of what we had collectively thought to call;

the suicide room.

[coming soon]