Chapter Text
She felt entirely too crowded. She was suffocating in a prison she made for herself. That said prison being plush and attentive, too loving, too caring. Something had to slip, where was the crack in the wall? Why were they so nice? Never had she seen animosity in their eyes how she believed everyone felt. She pushed and shoved her way to see it and all that was there was the hurt she left, the damage she had done.
On her other side is where another bar once stood, abrasive and annoying, disruptive. She wanted to tolerate it, to give it a chance, maybe that fools gold could really shine if you looked at it right. But it gave way, she didn’t even push, it moved and collapsed right on her. What a disappointment, she couldn’t even get any use out of the metal, turns out there was just Thulium inside. All it did was give her a nasty scar on her chest and an irritable mood at its mention. Never in her life had she been so disappointed in her peers. She learned never to trust a gold looking bar again.
There are pillows that whisper to her. Some say sweet nothings
“come to bed”
“its safe here, only here”
“we love you”
Others whisper horrid spells
“that bar would've been gold if you had just given it time”
“Why do you have to destroy everything you touch”
“they will never truly like you, your plush comforts lie”
“someone is always watching you”
Sometimes the sweet nothings sound more like horrors. Your simple sweets will never leave, even if you try. The callings to you will become louder the more you adopt. Your prison knows you well, better than yourself, stay here for your own good. You’re not anonymous and you never will be. Your impression has been made, every finger print and every word will swarm you in a ocean of your creation, your sorrow. There’s no turning back, You cant force concrete walls away.
They’ll cave in and swallow you whole the more you try.
Fighting does no good and fleeing is impossible, freezing tastes sour of hopelessness.
The mind is the only refuge left, and even that needs construction. Her brain is too dissatisfied filled with foul affirmations. They repeat what they’ve heard, they create imaginary problems, impulsive and intrusive all at once is far too much traffic. So she must lull herself into a new illusion. She deprives herself of memory to make an effort to feel better.
She knows she is crazy but when hearing the crowds opinion shocks her more. Through all this time, all these conversations with no one, hiding and distributing tasks manually in the mind, no one has noticed a slip. She is quieter than usual but normal, maybe even kinder than before.
Her audience of candies and plushies that seal the cold concrete away stay. She should really thank them, be grateful instead of spiteful.
Letting go has never been easier than when she was stuck in her own mind, but being present matters. How do you balance? Keeping the important memories while filtering out the bad ones is impossible long term and she knows this too. Her only way out is to break her illusion or to fall deeper in the comforting trance.
Maybe then she will finally realize she wasn’t in a prison after all, only being drowned by sickly sweet honey.