On your impulse,

Swallow the bottle,

Cut a little deeper,

Put the gun to your chest.

Unknown

One of the privileges of not knowing who you are is that you can pretend to be anyone you like. That's the beauty of being anonymous. You feel free, as if you could do anything, be anyone. Take your identity away for a day and it feels like a weight has been lifted, that is unless it's someone else that does it for you. Then you're left panicking in an empty room, confused about where you are and who you are, to have people burst through a metal door, sweep you up and torture, starve and drug you, as you feel your mind drift away creating a whole new monster within yourself, losing track of time as the world continues to turn and the pain never stops.

It's insanity.

Some people crave it more than others, which in my opinion, is something I think everyone should steer clear from. Let me ask the people of the world who crave this madness something. Why do you want it? Because it's the only thing that may keep you from feeling worthless if you have something to fight for? To fight for your sanity everyday because the world is spinning and the pain is unbearable and you feel like you're going to die, when you know it's just your mind playing tricks on you? People of the world let me tell you, there is no happy ending to begging for insanity; there are no perfect, cozy, white walls and sleeping pills to cure you. It never leaves, it only grows until it swallows you whole as your mind falls through a deep, deep abyss, and you can't get back out.

That's when you know it's done, it's over, and your sanity is never coming back.

And then, you will panic. You will claw at your eyes, clutch your head real tight and scream for it all to go away. You fight a battle everyday as you fight the demons and search for your sanity, even though deep down, it's already lost. So, let me ask you again, why do you want to be crazy?

Or, hell, even more crazy than you already are? If this is what society wants, than go ahead, we're all mad here anyways. I won't stop you. No one stopped me. Go ahead and lose your mind.

We all go mad eventually.

Or so I say. Just to reassure myself that I'm not the only person in this world who is insane.

The coldness of the metal floor brought me out of my thoughts as reality crashed down and the warmth I felt earlier had disappeared. Curled up on the floor, I reached a hand out and placed it onto the hard metal beneath me. It had gotten colder. Couldn't the people who put me here at least have the decency to warm the place? I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around myself, and thought about how I'd die from getting hypothermia, when the metal door to my room flung open and my kidnapper, along with two random guards, walked in.

I opened my eyes, letting out a small groan and glared at the intruder of my Alone Time. My intruder/kidnapper grinned slightly and grabbed ahold of my wrist, pulling me upwards. I stumbled a bit but when I finally caught my balance she pushed me out the door, the two guards walking behind me, one of them with a gun pointed to my back. A small part of me wanted them to pull the trigger so I could be done with this hellhole that I was stuck in.

"Keep moving", one said, jabbing me in the back with the point of the gun.

"Jeez", I mumbled and glared at them, which was the wrong thing to do. The guard grabbed my wrists and held them tightly, irritating the skin, and pulled me close so I could hear him whisper the next words that came out from his mouth.

"Say or do anything else and I'd gladly pull the trigger", he grinned manically, hoping to scare me. Honestly, I had never wanted to die as much as I had when he opened up this possibility. I could just say something, anything to strike a nerve and then find myself back at the happy place I was in before all of this had happened.

Before the time I had woken up in my coffin, terrified out of my mind, unable to breathe, fighting my way through layers of dirt and wood, to have the first thing I came in contact with after having pushed myself upwards and out from the earth be my tombstone, and afterwards, the hands of my kidnapper. Before being thrown into a cell, stripped of my filthy black dress I had on and into clean clothes, then to be injected with multiple drugs and tested on, playing with my memory and my emotions and my mind.

Before I began questioning my insanity and how long I had been here, as the tests and drugs and monsters and demons that I had to fight kept coming. Before all the torture and starvation and madness.

Before hell, I was in heaven.

And I want to go back.

"Did I startle you?" the man asked, bringing me back to the real world. Was this even real? I shut my eyes and concentrated on what was going on inside my mind, trying to calm it. It took all of my self-control not to grab his throat and rip his head off to shut him up.

I opened my eyes and made an abrupt turn, grabbing the tip of his gun. His eyes widened for a second, glancing around the room hoping for someone to jump into the scene. When no one bothered to pay any attention to the two of us, I noticed a twinkle of fear coming from his eyes and almost burst out laughing.

He was scared of me.

I liked that.

"I think the question is…" I began, pulling him in closer; the gun was now pointed straight at my chest. One pull of the trigger and I'd be dead.

"Did I startle you?" I said, grinning madly at him as he took a step away from me.

The guard stared at me, utterly perplexed. The gun slid from his shaking grip and onto the floor creating an echo across the hallway, causing people to turn around and stare at us. The other guard, who must've walked ahead during the whole commotion, came storming up to us, his face red and teeth clenched.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, James?"

James, the idiot guard that dropped his gun, took a step back, his hands outstretched, pointed a shaking finger at me.

"Sh-she s-started it", he whispered.

Great. Thank you, James.

The other guard sharply turned towards me, his gaze following James's finger and then to my eyes, when suddenly, my jaw met his fist, and I stumbled to the floor. My eyes widened in shock as I lay a hand against my already bruising cheek. I licked my lips slightly and tasted blood.

The other people who were watching us continued doing their work, not stepping up to do anything, as if a guard punching a girl in the middle of a hallway was normal and happened everyday. I shook my head in disgust at the workers and glared at the other guard. I caught a flash of guilt in his eyes but it disappeared completely once he realized I was staring at him.

"Get up", he ordered.

Unsteadily, on shaking legs, I got up, knowing that things were getting serious. My hand still tending my bruising cheek, I flashed a glare at James, and let the other guard walk me to the end of the hallway.

God, did no one know how to have some fun around here?