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꧁ᴄᴀɪʀᴏ꧂
I wake up to find myself in a white padded room. Like those rooms they put mental people in.
It's not even a nice shade of white.
Ridiculously bright, eye hurting, bland white.
Is this real.
Great! You're here too.
I feel a tap on my back and swiftly turn around to be greeted by what looks like a mirror.
The sight of my bruised face saddens me.
The stitches have yet to be removed.
Am I finally were I am supposed to be. A nut house.
I lift up my hand but abruptly stop when my reflection doesn't follow.
A smile spreads on its face, a low chuckle escaping.
I take a quick step back. My breathing quickens.
"Boo!" She jumps towards me. I slightly flinch back and hope she doesn't notice, but the manic chuckle that reverberates around the room signifies otherwise.
"I'm Paris, lovely to finally meet you." She extends her grimy hand out to me.
I look down at her hand, she nods her head encouragingly at me.
I shake my head 'no' and take some more steps back.
"Where the fuck am I?" I ask, beginning to become agitated.
I better not be going mental. Or even more mental.
"Your head. Where else." She jokes.
"This is like a defensive thing your mind has done. Made a little room. You somehow dragged me into it." She sighs, sitting herself down on the padded floor.
She watches me attentively as i look around the room.
I wish I would have thought something nicer.
"You used to be so nice. What happened?" I ask, sliding down a wall, and bringing my knees to my chest.
"I do whatever you're thinking. Those deep dark thoughts. I only bring them up." She shrugs.
"I really am crazy..."
"Crazier than the joker." She nods.
"Am I schizophrenic!?"
"I have... no idea"
"I do kind of wish you decorated this room some more. Or I don't know, maybe take us to a better place. The beach perhaps?" She scrunches her face into a disapproving look.
