Experiment of Madness

6-Wounds That Echo.-Aerra

Two weeks later.

I sat on the floor, curled up, hugging my knees tightly, my back against the cold stone wall, an attempt to find some comfort in the discomfort of a room that felt like a cage. I felt the walls closing in, my fears and loneliness filling the space.

Take a knife.

I hesitated, and my thoughts conflicted. I knew I was alone, my solitude a stark reality, my own company. The thought, however, made me shiver, the echo of the voice in my mind filling the empty space. I hugged my knees tighter.

I sighed, trying to convince myself that the quiet of the room was better than the constant chaos of the hospital, the loneliness better than the abuse. I reminded myself that no one would give me drugs or slap me here, the silence of my new confinement, a relief from the torment of the hospital. I felt the cold of the stone floor beneath me, the silence around me, a reminder of my solitude, my isolation. The empty silence echoed louder than the chaos of the hospital.

Take a knife.Set yourself free.

Set me free you bitch!

I was restless, my anxiety building, I nervously chewed my nails, an old familiar habit, now a means of comforting myself, of feeling something, anything, despite the emptiness. The voice in my head continued to whisper.

I tried to convince myself, my voice a low mutter, "This is not real, I'm alone, no one is here," I whispered to myself, a feeble attempt to calm my nerves, to find comfort in the silence. but the words felt hollow, the silence heavy around me, my loneliness a constant reminder of the isolation, my voice an echo in the empty cell, the whispers of solitude all that remained. 

I sighed, the silence heavy in the void, until I heard a voice, cutting through the silence. "You're not alone," the voice said, sudden and unexpected. I flinched, panic filling me, the sudden intrusion of a voice in my self-made solitude. My gaze darted around, trying to find the source of the voice, fear and confusion mixing in my mind, my heart racing.

Who's there?

The voice replied, the words a stab, slicing through my solitude, its tone condescending, reminding me of its presence, its omnipresence. "You've never been alone, I've always been with you," the voice said, a constant reminder of its presence, a mockery of my solitude. I felt trapped, my chest tight, the words sending a chill through me, a reminder that I was not truly alone, despite the solitary cell that caged me.

I murmured, a desperate plea, my tone urgent, "I'm alone, I'm alone, I'm alone," I repeated, a mantra, trying to convince myself, to find strength in my solitude, in my loneliness, trying to shut the voice out, to push it away, desperate for a moment of peace, but the words sounded hollow, the silence a constant reminder that I was never truly alone."Just let me be."

The voice pleaded, a tempting offer, a promise. "Set me free and you can be alone, I promise," the voice echoed, a temptation to free it, to grant its release, to gain the loneliness I desperately desired, but my fear held me back, my past experiences making my body tense, the words hanging in the air, a bargain I wasn't sure I trusted. I squeezed my knees tighter, conflicting feelings swirling within me.

"Why are you sitting on the ground again?"

He was there, standing and looking down, his tone casually cool. I felt a wave of wariness, my gaze met with his, the reminder of being taken from the hospital sending a shiver through me. I remained on the ground, his presence filling the silence, my solitude shattered by his intrusion, the reality of my new captivity once again at the forefront. I felt vulnerable, small and alone, the empty room suddenly feeling smaller, his presence a stark reminder of the power he held over me.