Well, this was categorized as a journal entry, but it’s actually an essay..

Published January 18, 2013 by ashleyhannelore

My Insanity Comes From Nightmares

A door is waiting, ready to consume the life of a vulnerable, small girl, like a vacuum cleaner would its dust. Nearing the mysterious room, I begin to notice it lacks any light, any hope of a blissful life. Standing completely still, I can see a golden knob directly in front of me, an arm’s length away. This magical knob, as it shines greatly, will be my key for the entrance to this dark room that inside will hold all of my inner monsters. The creatures that constantly belittle my soul, now are swallowed and held captive by this hallucination.

The gray wall in front of me resembles the sad rain clouds in the eye of a storm that simply don’t want to be. Somehow what I’m seeing on this dull wall is an exact match of what I’m feeling in my worn heart. The door creeps open and makes a sound of a screeching victim. Not until it hits the wall, does this horrible noise suddenly quit. “Am I alone?” I say to myself. Shy, and afraid of the imaginary, beastly devils, I will lift a foot and take one miniscule step inside.

    Burning flesh and rotting hearts catch my attention. Nauseated, I begin to fall backwards, no longer containing any judgement of my situation. Yet, I’m still standing. Unconscious, lying on the ground, I am engaging in an out of body experience. Standing next to this body that I’ve mistaken as dead. “So, am I her spirit, her soul?” I whisper to myself, staring at the lifeless shell. Soon I am corrected. Walking through the creepy place, attempting to find a light, I become disappointed.

    This object, this feeling of bulky fingertips glides across my forearm, takes a hold of me, jerking me back down. I am unable to move, unable to even flick my arms to reach for these thick straps and unbuckle myself from this seat. I soon begin to comprehend why I am here and why I am suffering when I see the creatures at eye level with me.

They sway into and out of each other, back and forth, and side to side. These muscular, forest green giants are almost in a dance, chanting at me, their voices rough, filled with grief. “The girl with the powers, taking everything you know. The girl with the spells, leaving you in woe.” Repeating these words over and over again, I’m still not sure I can understand. “Powers? spells?” I think to myself. I’ve been mistaken for another girl, or, it can’t be, a past life. In another life, a life which I do not remember, I was the girl with the powers, the girl with the spells.

Trying to explain, and apologize for the actions I had been unaware of, I am not able. My voice begins to crack when it reaches such a high pitch from screaming. The whip meets my back. I finally utter out the words, “I’m sorry” in such a quiet, slightly innocent voice. My eyes shoot to the body. It’s still lying on the floor, as I wonder how any of this was possible.

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