Mad: The story of how I went insane

There's so much blood.

It is a vivid red , an overwhelming scarlet that flows through the rivulets in the muddy earth upon which I lay. It soaks my jet black cloak, my matching black fedora and crisp white polo. And it has tinted my normally white mask a terrifying shade of red. The mask that covers only half of my face.

My mask....

Blood stained and bruised, it threatens to fall away any minute. And that can't happen because if it does, I will be a broken man. Its because i would revealed in front of the tormentors surrounding me. My mask is emotionless, and emotion is mans greatest weakness, The incessant downpour of rain, hides them. Yet It's not soothing,it stings my wounds on impact and pounds hard on my throbbing body . And it hurts,oh it hurts.

The pain....

Everything hurts. My body has been pulverized, torn, and bloodied. My head throbs from a never ending headache and I am soaked and shivering, making the knives dig deeper. but what hurts most of all is the random people staring at me this very minute. They do nothing to help me, many a passerby never give me a second glance. Trust me, it hurts to feel invisible.

They did this to me.....

They have hurt me more than anything, they ruined my life. And I did nothing, Nothing to them. But still they curse at me and injure me. And through all of this I have not done one thing..Cry. And that is what they call me.

My name is their main weapon, their biggest threat. They scream it before Stabbing my body with knives or letting free letches to roam my body and infect my wounds. The letches writhe across my length and the knives, they dig deep in to my sides and back.

And late at night they send a group of soldiers to torment me, to drive me insane. I believe they met that goal long ago. Now I am in a horrid state, I am past caring. This state is what they continue to break very slowly, along with my mask. And all I can do is scream.

My Screams.....

I shriek and shriek, my body arched high above the soiled ground beneath me. My cries soon turn into moans that send shudders throughout my slim frame. The rain pounds hard on my chest and the letches shrill. The knives dig in deeper, still ripping my flesh apart. My eyes sting from the crimson mud flung into the air by dirty boots and the pounding storm. I am in agony, i feel as if my insides are on fire. And still, I can only scream.

The darkness is coming, I can feel it, soon it will corrupt me and I'll never be the same again, I will no longer be Cry, I will be Mad. And someone has to know what they've soon, someone HAS too. And that person my friend... is you.