• CHAPTER ONE
    Loosing it.


    Dear journal.

    Death. Three years ago today I had wished for death, though it feels longer than that. I knew as soon as my "family" put me in that horrid hospital, death would be the closest thing I could get to being free. Insane, that's what they told me I was. They had no idea.

    I know to you I don't seem insane at all. You're right, in the since that I am not insane as of right now. You see, I don't know what it is but I have a very unique mental disorder. I only go crazy when I'm near people.

    As far as to how I go insane, I won't say anything, i'm sure you'll figure it out soon. I have a warning for you though, if the mind of the mentaly insane isn't your cup of tea, I suggest you put this book down.

    ~Anna Smith~





    I put my pen down and stared at the green notebook in front of me. I could feel myself starting to slip. It always started out with a numb feeling, and a headache. Then I would grow short of breath. It crept up on me like the silence before a storm. Noone could get away from it.

    I glanced at the round clock on my virgin white walls, and knew it was about that time. They would be coming for me soon. I stood up and with shaking hands I put my notebook away in it's desk. All I could think about was how I hated losing myself. There was nothing but pain in my dark place, nothing but filthy, confusing, twisted thoughts

    I would die again, a thought I knew all to well. A feeling I was addicted to. My only freedon from the upcomming war I had been losing for the past three years. Infected with shales I coulf no longer stand.

    Slowly I dlipped to the ground my hear beating the minutes away. My body aching with the expectations of losing it lashing out. A tear sliped down my cheeck as the first nock came at my door. So they were here. My own personal demons, I refused to answer the door. There was not way I was simply going to invite them in.

    I could feel my eyes slip into dangerouse glares. The last nock came at my door, and I couldn't help the ironic laughter that escaped my lips. I titled my head back to look at the bright white lights of my far away ceiling. I heard the door open but I didn't move.

    I heard them walk over to me and I tenced getting ready. I waited for their cold hands to grab my arm. I hated the way their filthy hands felt on my skin. Cold rough skinny fingers. It was disgusting. It horrofied me.

    The first one grabed me, and things moved very quikly. I couldn't understand anything let alone think.

    I yelled out trying to shove away from them but he only held me tighter. Filthy hands. Have to get away. My own peircing screams filled my room. Kick them and they might go away. I';; have to kick hard. I forced my body to follow my mind.

    They grabed my legs. Scream loudly, force them to let go. Distugsting humans. I struggled. It wasn't working. Try to crawl away. Kick move, do something! My arm was free. I swung out blindly, my eyes were closed. Couldn't look at them. Monsters. My arm hit something. Someone fell over. Tred to crawl away.

    I was crying, tired. Cold burning hands wrapped around my waste. It hurt. They picked me up. Screams and shouts. My throat hurt. I couldn't move I was tired. I left my room. They put a bag over my head. I was going yo suffocate. I couldn't breath. Gasp for breath, no, take deep breaths. I couldn't think anymore.

    The movement made me sick. I made one last convulsion trying to get free. I whimpered there was a sharpo pain on my side. What did they do? I felt numb. My face dtreaked with tears. Suddenly so tired. More voices. I had to fight.

    I was......so......tired.....sleep.