Experiment of Madness

14-Sleepless in Sanity's Grip-Aerra

I recall the stages of my confinement. At first, I was locked in my own room, a prison of my own making. Then, I was institutionalized, shut away from the world in a sterile hospital. And now, here I am, locked in Dag's room, under his watchful eye.

I remember Dag telling me he wanted to be a neurologist. The thought sends a chill down my spine, making me see him as a mad scientist, a man with sinister motives. The idea of him studying my brain and mind fills me with a sense of unease.

I continue to rummage through Dag's things, my hands moving quickly but silently. Each object I touch sparks a new thought or suspicion in my mind. Every little item I discover only seems to reinforce the image of Dag as a mysterious, almost sinister figure.

I stop my search, frustration rising within me. In truth, do I really have a choice? I'm stuck here, in this unfamiliar room, with this person who seems to be studying my every move. The feeling of helplessness makes me clench my fists, my mind struggling for any way out.

I consider running away, but the thought immediately fills me with despair. Where would I go? How would I survive out there alone, with no one to rely on? The world outside seems daunting and frightening, and I know I'm ill-equipped to handle it on my own.

I realize that the knife I held yesterday is nowhere to be seen. Did Dag take it? Did he find it and take it away? The thought sends a chill down my spine. He probably saw it, I realize. And he probably took it to keep me from harming myself or him.

I look out of the window, my gaze falling on a girl with long blonde hair dancing with a tall blonde guy. The sight of them fills me with a strange mixture of nostalgia and emptiness. I watch them for a moment, a pang of loneliness stirring in my heart.

I realize the dancing couple must be Dag's brother and his girlfriend. The girl has long, beautiful blond hair, while mine is chopped and disheveled.

I stare at the couple outside, my hand absently going to my own hair. I compare it to the girl's locks - long, golden, and flowing. Mine, on the other hand, is uneven and short, hacked off awkwardly, leaving it far from being considered beautiful. I feel a pang of longing, a strange kind of jealousy mixed with an odd sense of envy.

I watch the girl with longing, envying her happiness and good health. She seems free, unburdened by the pain and anxiety that plague me. Unlike me, who's haunted by my own thoughts and tormented by my own mind. The contrast between us feels like a bitter pill, making me feel even more lost and broken.

I watch the normal, carefree girl outside and a pang of envy stabs at my heart. She doesn't have the same scars and torment I do. She hasn't been locked up in rooms and treated as if she's a dangerous animal. Unlike me, she doesn't have to carry the burden of being labeled “crazy”.

I continue to observe the scene outside, my mind consumed by the contrast between me and the girl dancing carefree with Dag's brother. She's carefree, with long, beautiful hair. She looks normal, not broken like me. I'm locked up in this room, a prisoner to my own torment, while she's free to dance the night away. The pang of envy and despair only deepens as I sit there, watching her from my isolated bubble.

I turn away from the window, unable to bear the sight of the happy couple outside any longer. I return my gaze to the books on Dag's shelf, the ones about the human brain. The sight of them sends a chill down my spine, reminding me of Dag's interest in neuroscience and human pathology.

I can't help but let out a bitter chuckle, the irony of the situation weighing heavy on my mind. Here I am, trapped in this isolated world, surrounded by creepy books and secrets. While outside, there's a happy couple dancing and enjoying themselves. Life feels like a cruel joke sometimes.