i see the kite flying
- Reads 19
- Votes 1
- Parts 3
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Sun, Dec 27, 2015
prologue
I woke up lying awake in my tiny bed, underneath the gray covers, feeling cold, anxious and beaten, but I know the beating was what I had done to myself. My neck was sore from sleeping on my "hard as a rock" pillow. as I wake up I am once again a prisoner to my own cold twisted brain then I remember something 100. 100 days since I was locked down in this place, 100 days since my last home cooked meal, 100 days of being Alone, Alone in a room with no color. Is color just a figment of my imagination? all I see around here is white, gray and brown. My gown is white the nurses wore white, the chains on my window are gray the color of my food is brown even my bed side table resembles a dirty white, i'm starting to think that color really is not real, until one faithful day......
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In my nightmares I am trapped on a mental ward. I can't move my hands without feeling the restriction of the straps. My head is as clear, no trace of the "madness." I strain against the black polyester with every ounce of strength and still I can't budge. My back hurts right to the base of my spine. Saliva is pooling in the back of my mouth. The staff have gone. I am alone. My heart pounds, ready to explode; my eyes scan left and right for signs of someone coming to help. No-one. Worn green curtains hang limp on flaking chrome rings and though the gap passers by pay me no attention at all.
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