The Writers Voice
The World's
Favourite Literary Website
On the Brink of Being Lost
by
Nikki Frankel
Something is
happening to me. I can't explain really, but I'll
try. I am hurting so bad. Can
someone make it stop? Why won't he leave me alone?
The dreams won't go away. They still
scare me so bad. Everyone... everyone is a
potential threat to me. Call it paranoia, I don't
care. I
have to deal with it somehow... someway.
Did someone hurt me? Did it really happen?
What happened that night? The damp
earth pressed against my face, the rope burns on my
wrists, what does it all mean? Am I just crazy
here, searching for something in my past that isn't
there? But it feels so real!
The hands on me, the pillow over my head and
the fear... oh the fear of what is
next. How could I just create that? It had to have
happened! Someone had to have done something to
me that messed me up real bad. But why can't I remember? If something like that happened, I
wouldn't forget. I mean... I remember other things,
instances of terror. But they didn't hurt...
much. That can't be it. Someone close to me did
something... but who...what? More importantly,
why?
All of this suffering and confusion is
killing me. It's eating away at my soul... my
essence. Pretty soon I'll be like one of those
autistic kids. I'll stare off into space and won't
participate in or respond to the outside world
because the one inside my head is confusing and
demanding enough. I'm slipping away, slowly but surely losing my grip on reality. The claws of
psychosis are digging deep into my flesh.
I try to be like everyone else but I'm not.
Everyone else doesn't think of the things I
do. Everyone else doesn't lock all of their
feelings inside and let them hurt there for a long
time.
Everyone else isn't crazy like me. They don't kick
and scream or even cry like I do. No one
else feels what I feel. Even if they did, it doesn't
matter. I'm still going to feel so worthless.
Just let me be miserable in peace, if this
is even possible. Shut me away in some
asylum, never to be heard of again. I'd be better
off you know, no danger presents itself from inside
a padded cell. Maybe for once I'd finally be safe
from my biggest adversary, myself.
Sigh, I really am paranoid; there is no escaping
that fact. Irrational and paranoid, oh what fun
insanity
can be. Well I guess I am not really insane. I wish
I were, that would explain many of the things I do
and feel. But I do not suffer from any mental
illness; in fact I am a rather smart and logical
type of
person. Rational and calm, that's me. If I were a
victim of said lunacy though, then a reason for my
extreme uniqueness would be presented. Could that
help me claim back any dignity?
Oh, this need to be mad, to go against the
norm, I cannot hold it back any longer.
If I were allowed just one day to exhibit signs of
profound craziness, it would do so much good for my
ever-fragile psyche. The opportunity of flirting
with the dark side would certainly quell any
obsession
with such a shameful existence. Experiencing the
true horror of being blinded by pure madness is
sure
to straighten me out.
Everything would be just fine if I could
keep a handle on this rage of fire inside of
me. But the visions, they really do frighten me
terribly. The pain has to cease. I must heal...
from what
though? What terror have I escaped? What fate have
I avoided? Despair, old foe, you have come to visit
me again!
I shall conclude with but one warning of numerous ones concocted. Whatever you do, never write someone off as just being out of his or her skull. Be lucky that you don't have to wrestle with keeping your sanity at the forefront of your mind and the invasion of hell to but a dull roar, as do I.
Critique this work
Click on the book to leave a comment about this work
