My Corrupted Sanctuary

Oneshot

My bed is my safe place, a place where none of my thoughts get me. Where my depression and anxiety can not follow.

It's like a strong current in the river, drawing me in further and further away, until I don't want to leave. I don't want to remember all the pain and suffering I've been through.

But if I don't go to it, it comes to me.

In the form of my parents, it tortured me. Reminding me that I am not free, and I never will be. Suddenly the river turns to tar and I'm stuck, unable to move.

To others it seems like I'm not bothering to get up or I'm lazy, but the fact is I physically can't move.

In my fragile mind I scream to myself;

"Why are you so weak?!"

"Why do you ruin lives?!"

"Why are you still here?!"

But I'm not the only one screaming, in reality my father is screaming at me, demanding why I have to be like this. Saying I have control.

But I don't.

I never had control over my feelings. I never asked to feel this way, but I have no choice in the matter.

Now I have cuts on my wrists that hold not only physical pain but emotional as well, but they are in no comparison to the cuts on my heart, slowly turning my insides into tar from the river.

Eventually I'll just be gone, by my hand or another's, but I wait for the day, sometimes with worry, but there's always relief that someday I won't have to deal with my emotions anymore.

And all these feelings happened because someone invaded my place of normal and made it from a river of clear fresh water into horrible tar. My corrupted sanctuary.