A Glimpse of Fiction

17106972

They stared at the blank white walls. The people said they could decorate it how they wanted but they had no need, or want to. It had remained blank for a majority of their stay here with the exception of a combination of numbers printed in a small font at the bottom, near the skirting board.

17106972

That had been their name for years now, so long that they could barely remember their real one. In a way, they didn't want to. Their old name, the name that wasn't their number, was one of the only things that tied them back to their memories. The ties they was trying to cut. The memories of when they fitted in – when they was a 'called her'. The memories held the key to the thing that had landed them here in the first place.

The light suddenly flickered off, and then back on again. The sudden shock had sent them streaming into senselessness. Glancing through the door, their therapist looked worriedly at their blank face, empty and emotionless.

"You say she's able to leave any day now?" Her therapist enquired to the security guard outside the room, locked up and soundproof.

"They." The guard corrected, before continuing. "Yes ma'am, hasn't tried to commit suicide for several months, about a year now. Has somewhat accepted themself for what them are. Doctor says they'll always be different. Nothing else we can do."

The therapist nodded. "If that's what he thinks is best for her - them, I can't disagree. They're too closed up for me to help. Trust me, I've tried to help, but all she, they do is tell me that I don't understand."

They both looked back at the poor victim who was sat in their room, curled up in a ball with their hands over their ears. They were muttering, trying desperately to mute the voices in their head, the taunting voices that made them realise it was no wonder everyone thought they were crazy.

~

Today the voices inside their head were screaming. Repeating, over and over, how worthless they were. The constant reminder that they would never fit in with society. That they weren't valid.

"Make it stop!" They screamed, tears now falling like waterfalls from their eyes. They kept clawing, trying to scratch the surface and hurt the voices that tormented them. But still the voices went on, taunting and teasing them, never ceasing even when they was sobbing in a corner, having lost all hope in everything, everyone.

Even looking up now, there was no comfort in the face of the therapist looking through the glass at the pathetic heap on the floor. Useless. They were useless.

"Worthless," the voices whispered eerily. "You're worthless, and useless." The voices cackled as they struggled against their control, pressing their frail body hard against the icy cold, white wall. They closed their eyes, let the darkness engulf them and them eternal pain slowly be numbed.

Their eyes shot open and laid themselves upon a woman, the nurse, preparing a needle to be pressed slowly into them arm. They shot up, as fast as they could in their weak and malnourished state, and screamed at her.

"I don't need that – I just need you to accept me. Why can't you understand that?"

The woman didn't understand. She just packed her bags and gave them a sorry glance, leaving the room in an almost haunting silence.

They were very awake now, and very aware of the surroundings. They felt as if they were in a translucent box that they couldn't escape. No one understood them.

There was no longer anyone stood at the door of the cell. They stared, eyes wide, at the white wall and resumed their original position. However, they were still unable to think clearly, unable to form coherent thoughts or sentences. When they were letting them out, they'd never know. They couldn't explain themselves to the few inside this box, let alone the whole, wide world.

Their gaze drifted to their nails, short so that they would cause no harm – yet they still pressed them harshly into their palm. If they couldn't explain themself to the world, maybe they could just try to explain it to themself. The choice of their own pain.

It relieved them, allowing them to realise they were awake – and alive in this empty world. But what was there worth living for? If no one cared, or ever stayed ling enough to understand them, maybe they would always be alone. And with that final, upsetting though on their mind, they lowered their defences and fell into a silent darkness.