The Struggle Is Real

♤six : brainwashed♤

♤six : brainwashed♤

The world was spinning as I raced out the automatic doors. A breath of fresh, cold air hit my face, and my lungs devoured it. I didn't realize until that moment that they would probably send me to a correctional facility... I didn't care. It might actually help me get rid of all of this torture I was feeling inside of me. My fingers tingled, I was joyful to be free from my medical prison. The laces of my beat up teal converse tennis shoes dragged along the ground as I sashayed and leapt across the cold cement. I ran and ran and ran, until I felt like I wouldn't be able to move for days at a time. I ran anyways. I felt the pain, the struggle, the never ending churning in my stomach, the hunger, the loss, the inability to forgive, the scar in my shoulder turning red and inflamed, the torture I was giving to myself. All while running away from it. No, it wasn't my family or relatives that were selfish. I was the selfish one. I *am* the selfish one. How could I push them away when we all needed each other?? Why didn't I think of how they felt?! I heard the wailing sirens of cop cars and ambulances in the distance, and I gave up. Standing in the middle of the road wasn't really my plan, but thats kind of how it happened. I just kind of stopped. Time stood still and I figured If it was my time, at least I would be able to see my parents again. I couldn't think. I couldn't move. I felt as if I had been brainwashed and glued to the street. A truck slammed on the breaks and barely missed me. The road was scarred with tire tracks. The air smelled like burned rubber. I didn't even flinch. I wasn't scared of him, or his semi-truck. He parked his semi at an angle so no one else could or would dare hit me. He stomped angrily to me and towered over my shriveled figure. He asked me in a frighteningly loud amplitude what I was doing over and over again. The only thing that I could muster to say was that five days ago, I would have been terrified beyond measurable. He still didn't understand why I was standing in the middle of a road waiting to get hit, so further questioning went on, and his voice rose louder and louder until I couldn't take it anymore. He looked like a mad man, and I a humble servant that would do anything he told me to. I giggled, then chuckled, and before I knew it I fell to the ground laughing. I clutched my stomach and laughed harder. I had forgotten how wonderful it felt to laugh. In my old life, the good old days, I would laugh and laugh and laugh about immature things like purple finches being red. Daily. I had forgotten how you could laugh away all your problems. The man must have thought I was insane, which, I pretty much was on the brink of going fully mad anyways. Still laughing and crying, I hugged the random stranger for saving my life. I will never know his name, for the EMT's never let me ask before I was whisked off to another hospital for my mental and physical condition. In other words, I was scientifically labeled a psycho.

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hi.

thanks for reading ily!

bye.