Read ._.
- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:24pm
Thread Topic: Read ._.
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Story that I'm doing on Wattpad, tell what you think. If you want to read more then check it out on Wattpad.
Lost and Found
The air around seemed to swish past so very fast, I could hear the noise, loud inside my ears, was it just that I was running so fast? Or was it just that the wind moved so fast? I must've left Chester behind me, he was always the slow one, but this burst of energy I felt inside me was too great, I doubted it would go away. I felt it pumping through my veins, beating in my chest, all so strong, all so powerful yet so scary at the same time. But alas, the sound of a hooting car not too far away stopped my sudden burst of energy, strange how as soon as I stopped running Chester shows up next to me when I swear he was so far away a few minutes ago, he bent down, heaving deep breaths in and out, deeply and slowly. The car slowly approached us, by the looks of it, my guess was that it belonged to a police and even in the daze of mania, energy and excitement I could clearly see the cop was not impressed, "What are you two doing' here?'", he asked us,I don't blame the cop for asking, its not extremely normal to see a 16 year old and a 18 year old running through the streets at night, I glanced at Chester, he was the one who always answered these things, he's the one who always kept his composure, "Sorry sir, we're from the phychiatric ward not too far from here, this one needed to breathe a bit", Chester replied with that confidence I always admired him for and gestured his thumb toward me, the cop nodded his head with a faint trace of a smile on his lips, "Alright, stay safe an' goodnight you two". Strange how when they realize your from a phychiatric ward they act all nice and let you do what you please.
***
Its much easier trying to remember those days when my head thought straight, when my mind wasn't consumed in thoughts and when I could honestly say that I was normal. Those were the days of school, parties, friends and boyfriends, and when I think about it, those days were not too long ago but it feels as if it has been many years since then, many worlds since then. The person I was then is a complete stranger to who I am now, I was once Sandra Barker but through the years I have found myself to be Astrid.
I feel pity for Sandra Barker, lost in her world of academics, friends,parties and the easy way out of everything. Sandra has a mother and father who are still married, I can't really say happily married though, her mother is a plastic surgeon, Sandra found plastic surgery intriguing, her mother was a stout women, with her there was only one way for everything to be done, do a it a different way and she will consider you completely wrong, in her opinion there was only one way to think which was the right way, Sandra thought she knew what the right way was, I still question it everyday. Her father was a businessman in charge of some huge corporation, Sandra and I still don't know which one, he was a proud man, he had too much pride at times, but he was one who had a great love for his daughter, or so he claimed yet Sandra still has trouble believing him and when she would question him he would reply listing the many things he bought for her, "Private school education top in the country, already a place at Harvard University, a birthday party every year, all the books and CD's you've wanted..." and so he would drag on and on and on. She would question sometimes if her father was right and that buying someone whatever they wanted but never caring or seeming to listen to them was love, if so she didn't see herself enjoying love that much. Her father bought her the best, shoes, designer clothes, even the Kindergarten she attended as a child was completely elegant and cost him a fortune, the highest education that anyone could offer.
But that didn't help her, that didn't save her.
Sandra Barker thought she was safe, thought her mind was safe and that would never tumble down into the dark, unknown waters of depression, she thought she would be okay, if she stayed high enough and hid from the mysterious and unknown, the doubts and what is illogical that she would be okay, she never realised one push could end it all. One push would be the end of it all and she would tumble down into the murky waters of the unknown, a place my mind stills roams frequently, desperate for an answer, desperate for an escape, this place I have no become familiar with, I now have no fear when I search this misted place, I have no fear anymore of what lies inside this place, what lies inside my mind.
It was not when I had expected it to be, not how I thought it would feel, I was completely unprepared for the tumble that awaited me, I had little experience in anything as to what was to happen, so when I fell...I coudn't have been less prepared than I already was.
It was at time while at school I was at the top of my game, undefeated, extremely sure of myself and focused too the point of breaking, it seemed so great at first, it was all so fast, the thoughts in my head buzzed quickly, each idea new and exciting, each breath so extreme and meaningful, I was on a high that no dosage of cocaine could ever bring me, but with every high there was always the low and I swear this low hit me hard like a bomb blasting into the earth, exploding and leaving fragments of my sanity scattered around. The thoughts were too fast, ideas buzzed too loudly, it was too overwhelming for me to understand or control. Soon the thoughts became dark, it was if my mind had developed this dark, scary caves inside itself, were these forbidden caves always here? The darkness of the thoughts consumed me, they took away Sandra Barker and left me as nothing. It soon came to a point where I felt nothing.
I felt nothing.
I was nothing.
And the worst part was that nobody noticed, or was it that they didn't even care to notice? Care to help? But this left me feeling alone, my friends left, if I spoke to them they would smile that sad smile that would say, "I'm sorry your a physcho but I can't help you", so I left them, they didn't seem to mind at all, the outside world left me, and I left them, I spent countless breaks in the libary, looking for poetry that'll say what I felt, something that I could relate to, something that'll make me feel whole and pretend I wasn't so alone. Of coarse my findings lead to nothing. Nothing. And so I resorted to being nothing, accepted my fate of nothing. And I decided I wanted nothing, just nothing, and I longed for that, I dreamed of feeling nothing, I never expressed it as suicide, never thought my mind meant suicide, but the psychiatric explained what I felt were suicidal thoughts triggered by a depressive emotional illness described as bipolar. I never thought what I felt was suicide, but when I think about it now I realize that all I had thought about and obsessed about was the want to kill myself.
Sometimes I imagine going up to Sandra Barker and telling her in a few weeks her mind will only want to kill itself, and I can tell you this if I told her she would look at me as if I were a madwomen and continue with her small-minded life of school and parties. If only she knew what awaited her...
But I can't help her, its already happened and now I'm here in a phychiatric ward
#3 Days#
Its been 3 days and I've finally met the other occupiants here, we all have our story, we all have a history and we all respect that, I've recently found out I'm the youngest here. No one questions why I'm here, but I must be honest I question myself why I'm here all the time, the day I came is a complete blurr, I pretend not to comprehend it and pretend to stay here as if its the most normal thing in the world, as if I have a reason, I'm still trying to find the reason but as I said before, its all just a horrible blurr -
, I pretend not to comprehend it and pretend to stay here as if its the most normal thing in the world, as if I have a reason, I'm still trying to find the reason but as I said before, its all just a horrible blurr.
There are not many here, we have Alexandra with her firey red hair and blank stare, who plays with her, braiding it, then unbraiding, then repeat, she's not that much older then me, she's aged 18, just three years older. Then we have Bubbles, no kidding, his name is really Bubbles, well thats what he said I should call him, I don't really know why Bubbles is here, he's certainly not as deranged as the rest of us, he has a wild spirit and a huge smile, Bubbles was Bubbles. And everyone loves Bubbles, Bubbles must be 19 by the looks of it, but he resembles a hyper 13 year old. Then we have Margret who's 23 and is the oldest, Margret by the looks of it probably extremely depressed, or angry, I never see her smile, Margart has dark eyes that bore into your soul, dark matching hair but a permanent scowl, she's extremely beautiful but I think her darkness scares all. There are 6 more people in the building, one is a woman who has random temper tantrums, another is a man who describes his mind like a pinball machine, and he rest are a group of physchologists and physchiatrists.
And thats it, this is the small group of people I live with, we barely speak, (except Bubbles who I think secretly has Verbal-diahrea), we barely interact with one another. This is how it is, our home is a brick building, the outside basicly shows how the inside is, small and boring. Nothing exciting, nothing interesting, nothing at all, not even any paintings, no colour just white, not even black.
And here we spend our days wandering around mindlessly, trying to figure out who we are and why the hell are we here.
I sometimes think of us as leaves, we've left our tree and here we drfit around senselessly with no goal or place to go, no thought of hope, just the dream of a home. Thats want we want, home.
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