Draw my Eyes

Diagnosis.

I don't like this room at all. No windows. Just one metal door completely locked. Is this how fish feel inside a fishbowlfeel? Trapped? But at least they can swim to wherever they want, it doesn't matter if they're in a fishbowl, or the ocean, they are free to do whatever the want to.

I wish I was a bird. I wish I coukd expand my wings, be free, and explore the world, and maybe, find my personal happiness in between the huge, white clouds.

Suddenly, my therapist walks inside the room. She gives me a file with some papers inside. She leaves without exchanging words. I wait for instructions. Silence.

"You may now open the file",my therapist speaks through a microphone

I open it and I'm amused by the pictures it hides. This pictures, why I feel like I've seen them before? No. I haven't seen this pictures, I've lived and protagonized all this moments, enclosed in these pieces of paper, probably taken by a personal spy, yes, just like that spy, I have many eyes over me, always.

"What do you think of those pictures?",the mysterious, dark voice asks me.

"I'm astonished, I don't know whay to say", I say, my voice cracking at the end of the sentence.

"Do you recognize those scenes?",my therapist asks.

"Yes, but I don't understand. Why are you showing me these pictures?", I worriedly ask.

A strong sound is heard inside the blue room. I don't move. I don't want to see what's making that noise.

"Take the lenses that are on the shelf", my therapist says.

What lenses?, I think for a moment.

"Now!", the mysterious voice yells at me

I slowly turn around to search for the lenses. 

Was this shelf here when I arrived? Hmm I don't think so, I say to myself as I spot a black shelf in the left corner at the back of the room. I notice the big, grey lenses that are standing there, waiting for my harsh hands to grab them, and let them control my brain, probably.

"Put them on", an unknown woman's voice speaks

"What do the do?", I ask as I put them on

"It's not what they do, it's what they make you think they do", my therapist says.

Well, thanks for answering my question, I say to myself in a very low voice.

"Don't be scared. Those are called the sensorial lenses, they can sense your mood, and kind of read your thoughts. Well, in fact, the lenses are not the ones that do this, is a chip installed on them, that send brain signals to another chip installed in all of our computers", a man speaks.

I don't understand. Are they trying to figure out what's wrong with me? Well, obviously there"s something wrong with them, but I'm kind of bored, and I think that playing with them should be fun, right? I'll take the risk, I'll play for a while, and after it, I will leave this weirdo's thought consume themselves alive.

"We will not be one of your victims, Clementine", my therapist declares.