Bliss

Chapter 1: Stages Of Sanity

Chapter: Stages Of Insanity

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Liz. That's what they call me. Well, it really depends on who they are, doesn't it! Haha.

They could be dead for all we know.

Although, that's doubtful. The dead don't talk.

They whisper.

And we hear them in the rustle of leaves and the howl of the wind, softly carrying the tales of those who have fallen before us.

That's what Nana Belle used to tell me, before I got sent here, I mean. Then again, Nana Belle was of a questionable mentality.

But who am I to judge? I'm Liz. That's what they call me.

Wait, we've already been through this haven't we? Everything has already happened once before, at least. War, triumph, laughter, tears, evil, good, death, it's all been done before.

It's unoriginal.

I like to think of myself as unique. Like a lily on ice. What? Who? Where? When? If you start with one, you have to follow through with the others I suppose.

Follow through. Haha.

I don't think I'm half of what they think I am. Maybe a quarter. Maybe a fifth.

The woman who endured my birth called me a 'monster' once. That made me laugh. She was always a good laugh, my mother.

Well, right up until I started to 'change', as they like to call it. They have an arrogance to them, do they not? Going around calling everything what they wish, picking names and titles and not giving a shit about... well, anything. Poverty, pain, cruelty, death.

But that wasn't what I was talking about, was it? I get so lost. I have so many thoughts, they all get jumbled up. Like bee's buzzing about in mind, constantly battling to buzz louder than the others.

My thoughts of bee's and buzzing and everything are interrupted as The Blank enters my Dungeon with a tray of steaming food on it.

I call her The Blank, although, they all wear their white lab coats here. All of them. Every last one of them. Well, not The Bitch, and not The Victims.

So, I guess that was a lie. You shouldn't trust me, I'm a liar. I'm Liz.

This Blank makes me happy, she's my favourite one. She has beautiful dark skin and a bright smile with thick bright red lips and dark gray hair that's always pulled back into a fuzzy bun. She has eyes so green that they look like the fields that my Nana Belle used to take me walking on.

"Hello, Liz. Feeling merciful today?" She raises her eyebrows at me. I like the way she doesn't call me 'dear' and doesn't say 'so, how are we are feeling today?' every time she sees me.

I don't know how 'we' are feeling, but I'm feeling like I want to stab that ball point pen in your eye. That's my usual mental response to whenever The Blanks or a The Bitch asks me pointless questions like that.

I grin at her, shaking my head. Raring for the battle. It's not that I'm anorexic or anything, I eat lots, then for a couple of days I don't. And then I stuff my face all over again.

When I do eat, I eat so much that it's painful. I do this so even though my days of not eating take their toll on my body, as soon as I do eat, I gain every pound that I've lost, straight back.

The Blanks say that's unhealthy for me, but at the end of it all, I don't gain or lose a single pound, so why do they care?

They don't, they're just paid to act like it. I may be crazy, but I'm not stupid.