Words

Insanity

Do you ever feel like you're slowly slipping into madness? And that you can't stop it?

I feel as if I'm being watched everywhere I go. Whether I'm alone or with others, I'm being watched. I can feel stares burn on my back.

I'm not being fucking watched by angels. *cough wink nudge*

Whispers. Hearing voices is one sign that I know you're going insane.

Whispers upon whispers. Passing by my ears every few minutes, I keep turning around but nobody is there.

I can hear giggling as if they've tricked me, pulling pranks on me. High-fiving each other as I confuse myself as to what I'm doing.

What's going on?

Am I hearing things again?

Who keeps laughing? Are they laughing at me?

I'm confused and frustrated.

Why is this happening to me? Why are they laughing at my stupidity?

Shadows. I see shadows of creatures and people wherever I go.

Whether it be small or huge creatures, they're everywhere. I can see them staring at me from a distance. I can already feel something or someone watching me as I write this.

What's happening to me?

What makes it even worse is that when I look at myself in the mirror, I see someone whose broken.

Broken and torn.

Messy hair, red eyes and dark circles under them. I know I'm looking at another person.

But is it my past or future self?

I can practically see the blood dripping from the cuts and bruises I see.

Blood. Dark, fresh blood. I can smell it. I can taste it.

Wrists, legs, stomach and back...fresh new cuts dragging down my skin.

My face keeps twitching and it goes from miserable to creepily happy in a second.

Static noises and screams.

Screams from dead people. Clawing at my feet. Scratching at my face. Wanting help. Groaning for someone to hear them.

It's your fault.

You didn't save us.

Why are you letting this happen?

You're pathetic.

You should die.

Join the herd...

...

Scratches.

Static.

Screeches.

Noise.

Loud.

Whispers.

Voices.

Shadows.

Giggles.

Wrists.

Back.

Legs.

Stomach.

Blood.

Cuts.

Sharp.

Soft.

Bruises.

Redness.

Blackness.

Whiteness.

Heat.

Cold.

Fresh.

Dry.

Fire.

Knives.

Scissors.

Forks.

Paper (cuts).

Nails.

Worthless.

Broken.

Pathetic.

Creepiness.

Depressed.

Misery.

Fear.

Pain.

Excitement.

Confusion.

Frustration.

InSaNiTy...

Everything changes in a second.

The next thing I know, I could be dead.

Am I finally going insane?