TCHIAI Final

I wonder about my mental health by now. I don't know how long I’ve been in this dark room, but it feels like weeks and months. I dream of escape, but not of my past. I can't even remember my past. Who was I before all of this? Who were my friends? What did I do? I can't even remember my mother's smiling face or my dad's goofy personality. It’s all been taken from me, replaced with monsters and nightmares that I will never become used to. I'm always afraid. I'm always scared. I never feel anything different.

Then, I dream of escape. Sweet, sweet escape. I picture it in my mind, running barefoot through green grass in the mountains on a beautiful summer’s day.

The funny thing is, it happens. I'm running. I’m running far away – away from all the madness and the horrors. A smile comes to my face and I feel… I feel free. They said they would set me free, right? When it was all over. So, maybe they did. Maybe I’m actually, truly free.

I laugh and run faster, and then I hear thunder. I don't care, though. I truly don't care. The sky darkens and rain begins to descend upon me, washing me clean from all the past nightmares. I spin in my yellow dress and watch the rain clean the dirt from my skin.

"It isn't real," he says.

I turn around, the happiness inside me leaving in an instant. There he is – the guy that I thought was so hot long, long ago. The guy who tormented me and fed me more nightmares in the middle of the night is standing right in front of me.

I run.

I run from him, into the trees. All I can do is run through the thick woods. Pine tree limbs slap me and scratch me. Thorns and leaves stick to my clothes. Blood trickles down from where the thorns rip into my feet, legs, and arms. The sky above me is dark and rain falls down heavily.

I'm used to the darkness, though. I'm used to the scared feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"There's no reason to run," his deep rough voice says, far far behind me. "It will start all over again soon enough!"

I can barely hear his words over the sound of the rain. I hear my breath and I hear the frantic beat of my heart, along with the sound of my rushed steps as I head deep into the mountains.

How do I have the strength to run?

How do I not feel the wounds that are being inflicted on my body as I push ever further?

Adrenaline, maybe?

Maybe I’m already too numb from the sudden cold?

Maybe I’m not truly alive, but I’m still haunted after death?

How did I even escape that dark room so easily?

Or did I not really escape? Am I still in those dreams?

The voice catches up to me.

The rain moves around his words, carrying them away. But they soon reach me, saying, "You aren't real." I stop in my tracks. The rain, the sound of my breathing, the sound of my thumping heart, it all begins to slow. I squeeze my eyes shut and hold my head together as the migraine begins to take over. "Shut. Up," I order weakly through gritted teeth.

"All of us – we aren't real."

"Please, stop."

"We are all just characters in a short story."

And then, my world is black again as I am running through the trees, another pair of eyes reading the story where I am the main character who is forever running. The same story plays over and over, looping forever in eternity, never destined to really have an end.

I'm at the beach house, ignoring the tug inside me as I walk out onto the porch and down the steps toward the dark beach.

Black in the night.

We can see darkness, but we cannot see what lies within it.

We only see what we imagine.