Breathe. That's what they tell you to do as they stand over you with lights and looks of concern as if you're about to die. You won't... Not this time and you haven't before. But it's still the same concern. If you did die the guilt would be too much for anyone to handle. You tell yourself that no one really cares unless you're dead or dying. You've always heard that so you think that they won't feel real guilt until you do.
You feel pressure on your chest like bricks have been layered on you. There are no bricks in reality, but to you it feels like a wall is being built on your lungs making it impossible to breathe in air. How ironic that is because they're telling you to breathe. Yet they're the reason why you feel this way. Remember that they're unaware that they're causing this... that they're only trying to help. They can't hear your muffled screams to stop and leave for they have cotton in their ears. Most people are made like that. It is your job to get close enough to pull the cotton out and open their eyes. They are unaware that they are built this way.
You see a rope in the middle of the white room. You've been here for as long as you can remember and you've walked in there for miles. You've found this room has no end. No walls. No doors. No windows. Just the occasional visitor that tries to help but can't because they can't hear or understand you. And now a rope. You get up from where you've been sitting and stare up at it. You decide that you need to try and climb it to see where it leads, but you fail at first. Being trapped here for so long has made your body weak. But you try again and continue to try until you climb up to where the rope ends.You pull yourself through the opening it goes through and find yourself in a grassy field. The rope was your stairway, but just simple stairway would be too easy for someone like you. You wonder who put the rope there but there is no one around; it is only you. Confused, you start to walk and in the distance you notice a large oak tree. Standing there, as if almost beckoning for you to come closer is a silhouette of a person leaning against the tree. But as you start to run the tree and figure vanish. You are alone again. You blink and you find yourself back in the white room and the rope is gone. You wonder if all that happened was just a dream, but you hear a voice in the back of your head. "Patience is key," is all it says. Patience is key.
