I'll never be the same.

Down for the Count.

I have always liked getting lost in a good book, or even getting lost in a forest. But one day getting lost wasn't so fun anymore.

It was one thirty-nine AM and I was still staring at the ceiling, it felt like eternity had past, the constellations that my parents had painted on my ceiling in glowing paint, had slowly lost their sparkle.

I tossed and turned in my bed endlessly, to the point where I got disorientated. My mind ran wild with memories of happiness and joy, but also harboured a volcano of bad thoughts and feelings.

Slowly I started to drift off, and the volcano started to boil, spewing out its hatred and negative feelings, the liquid emotions slowly devoured my memories of being happy, leaving a desolate and unknown nightmare.

I slowly woke up at six-thirty, and yet again continued to stare at the dull-glowing stars, i didn't get out of bed until it was too late to go to school, I rang my mum up and told her she was ill, "mum I'm ill, I can't go to school" I whimpered pathetically down the phone as a tear started to ache in my eye, I hung up.

I climbed back into bed and tried to recover my memories of good, but everything was destroyed by the eruption of feelings, I paced the barren land that I once knew so well, again I felt disorientated and alone. Lost in the thoughts I drifted off, letting the volcanic liquid destroy my mind even more, poisoning my once vibrant mind.

I walked slowly to the kitchen, having to concentrate on my direction and motive. I gazed into the fridge. But soon after, I closed it. Not remembering what or why I did it.

Once at the bottom of my ancient wooden stairs, I scaled the creaky panels to the bathroom. I turned the tap on and waiting for the clean bath to fill. I slid into the almost boiling water- feeling the water scold my pale skin, I didn't wince or squeal at the copious amounts of pain, I stayed still, letting the water scold my skin, red; feeling something felt- felt so much better than feeling nothing. For once.

Bored of the constant black inside of my head, I leaned my body back and let my dead weight drag my lifeless body to the bottom of the bath, holding my breath, one.. two... three...four.

I counted the seconds I could hold my breath. My lungs grew tighter by the second, my eyes burned, my skin stung; like I was being attacked by millions of bee's.

But I would give anything to not feel again.