Hope

2

I walked through the halls for the first time after "that" happened.

It wasn't even a full three minutes before I can feel them staring at me.

I could here them whisper,

"Isn't that the one who had a breakdown, you know the one who went crazy.

I heard they tried to kill themselves because they heard voices.

Look psycho is back.

Isn't that the maniac who went nuts three months ago?

I heard they put them in a padded room because they was dangerous to the other patients.

Guys try to be nice it isn't their fault they went insane."

The hallways started to spin with my every footstep.

To them I didn't have a name.

I was just a slur to them.

It was dehumanizing.

The weird stares and loud whispering only made it worse.

Becoming a part of society again is horrendous.

I wish I was never part of it.

I am nothing but the person who tried to take her own life.

Even the things that weren't true was scarring.

It seems I'm losing my own mind or what's left and being stuck in theirs.

I wished I was gone.