Blur Me Out

1

No.

No no no no no.

This was notto happen.I was supposed to go. I was gone. I felt myself slip into oblivion. It didn't work. I could already hear them coming back to taunt me.

Stop it.

Stop it stop it stop it stop it.

But they wouldn't stop. This was supposed to make them stop. It obviously didn't work,as the voices pounded and chiseled their way back into my mind, a familiar faint pain arriving with them. I slowly allowed my eyes to flutter open and took a second to absorb my surroundings.

The place was alien to me, padded with beige foam and white ceilings. They air smelt medicinal, and everything was clean and pure; Almost too pure. I swung my feet to move off the soft surface I was currently swaddled in, but a sting of pain shot up my leg and it allowed me to notice the shackle attached to my left leg.Where was I? As I lied back down, a gleaming plate caught my eye. It was quite reflective and said "Gateways mental health center" I was in a psychiatric ward.

Instantly a wave of paranoia hit me. They're watching you. They're going to hurt you. No they're not. They just want to help. Let them help. Let them help. Let the-. Shut up! They hate you. We told you to finish it off. Such a failure. Such a failure. I shook my head willing the voices away. It was a technique taught to me by my psychiatrist. Slowly the voices drifted away fading into nothingness. I closed my eyes. Who saved me? Why? My parents didn't. They were always on a business trip. I knew the real reason they were always gone. They didn't want to accept the fact that they had a mentally ill daughter.

I wish pain and death and agony on who ever stopped me. They had no right. They took my life into their hands. In that moment they were God and I was the loyal servant. Then again who was I to take my own life? Maybe I am a hypocrite, but maybe it's for the best.

Before my thoughts could completely overwhelm me, The door creaked open causing me to freeze. In walked Sonya Welder, my current caretaker. Her smile was unlively, and her eyes pooled with tears. As she ran to me, she collapsed within herself allowing her caged sobs to rack her body.

"Why?"

It was a simple inquiry. There was no further elaboration needed, as I knew exactly what she was asking. In that moment, as she sat upon my lap in question our thoughts were one. In that moment, I wish I had an answer, but I didn't. As I glanced at the scars on my arms, I didn't know why. Why had I made my internal pain physical? Why did it seem fit to me to leave, eternally? I knew it's selfish, but what if it isn't? Selfishness is wanting someone to endure suffering endlessly. Selfishness is ridiculing them over something they cannot control. If suicide is selfish, then I admit, I am as gluttonous as they come.

I gazed at Sonya limp in my arms. The woman who had admonished me, and cherished me simultaneously. The woman who had raised me, taking the place of a surrogate mother was now a child in my arms, Sadness radiating off of her. Slowly she peeled herself off of me, only to stare me straight in the eyes.

"Answer me." She says shakily.

" It wasn't worth it." I say, the meaning clouded.

I look away fidgeting at the piercing silence. It seemed to speak volumes.

__________________________

It's a funny thing. Every time it's calm and gentle, a violent storm awakens in me. The monsters, I mean. I don't take to calling them that. Neither do they. It makes me sound mental, albeit, by traditional means I am. Yes, It's a funny thing. Here, as I take refuge in Sonya, it's the time they decide to flare up. Wisps of light shoot around me, blinding me with brightness. I think I can I think I can. It doesn't work. My arms clasp onto Sonya as if she'll miraculously save me from the atrocities my mind has created. Instantly, she senses what's happening.