Deafening Silence

Deafening Silence

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WpMetadataReadMatureComplete Sat, Mar 28, 20155m
The voices in my head almost dictated every aspect of my life, and so did my schizophrenic. The place that's supposed to be 'helping' me and others, trying to make us 'normal' was giving us stock therapy and almost every single coloured pill known under the sun. I was suffering. I was struggling. And the thoughts of death were knocking on my door step tempting me and taunting me at every turn.
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December twentieth is the day I remember being brought into the asylum for the first time. Like any typical psychopath, I screamed. I cried. I remember snatching the nurse's hair until she screamed and I was slapped into unconsciousness and thrown into the room. The only difference? I wasn't a psychopath. For the first few days, I would cry maniacally upon hearing any nurse go by, to catch one's attention and tell her that I wasn't insane. "That's exactly what an insane person would say" They said, unbothered and it was as if my fate rested in the mouldy walls of the Asylum. And I soon realized that there was no use fighting for my life now .Which brings me to the present day, another one that I'll mark in history with red. The day I met him.

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