Death is time

Part 1

I have only been to the dark place a number of times, my ma made sure I didn't go there often. She looked after me my whole life which is why I am so grateful for her.

But at some points in life it gets to a point where it doesn't feel like mine anymore.

One of the reasons I  haven't been to the dark place many times is because my ma wouldn't let me outside the house, (not one tiny step!) that meant I never played with the other kids who I see through my window. Often I feel lonely by my self with no one my age to talk to or play with, which sucked but ma always said it was to protect me and prevent me going to the dark place so I don't particularly mind that much.

When I look out the window and see the glittering sun reflecting off of the trees leaves as the overgrown grass swayed contemptibly with the wind, I feel rather lost......

Lost in the sense that I don't know what is worse...

being trapped in my own life and being free of pain or being free but being trapped in my mind, being forced to endure the torture.

Sometimes I imagine a world where I was free but I've thought about it and it's not possible, your either trapped physically or mentally, some people endure both.

I have heard stories about people going to the dark place by my ma, everyone gets it differently and if they survive to tell anyone, I doubt they will say much after what they've been through. Around here it's sort of a ghost subject, no one talks about it according to ma, which I find very strange as it's something that can kill us in a heart beat so why not try and understand it or explain it to people who don't understand.

I guess people try and avoid the subject out of respect for the dead.

Ma went out of her way to protect me like how she bolted all the windows shut a few years ago, she did this because she said people throw rocks to get attention from the government seeing as it is attempted murder of sorts I guess. One hit and I could be in the place I dread. Im so luck to have her look after me!

Whenever ma brings my food she always feeds me herself, she said she doesn't want me to cut my food up incase I cut myself with the knife that she made. Ma always puts me first, she even sometimes risks her life by cooking me hot food or a warm drink sometimes, I wonder if I'll be a great parent just like ma one day.