I hate the silence... and the dark that takes over the night. It frightening yet comforting. How is it possible to feel scared and yet safe at the same time? I'll tell you; they scare me because there's no light left in my cell banish my demons, to protect me from them. For some reason it reassures me; as well; probably because in the dark no one can watch me fall apart, watch me shatter in to pathetic pieces. Plus, the pitch-black silence helps me believe the lie my mind uses to survive-'It's not real! It's just a nightmare, a horrific nightmare'.

I breathe deeply, trying to hold it together, I can't fall apart, not now, I have to be strong. There's only a few hours of darkness left before I have to re-apply the mask, which will shield me mentally and physically and make me survive another useless, empty day.

Suddenly a deafening scream rips through the tormenting stillness; like a whip lashing through the wind. Agonizing cries and desperate pleads fill the air. Shaking my head furiously I think to myself 'It's not real. It's not my fault. It's not real... But it is real: these groans of pain I hear are real, the constant tears they weep; each of them drops of water in the pool of sorrow and pain, that is life.

And it was all my fault.