Depression kicks in like a sack of bricks, and I’m left on the ground hating myself, wishing I was never born.

As I lay dormant my mind tries to find the reasons as to why I lay here, but it’s left with only empty hands. There is no reason. There’s no thought behind the way I feel; it just is.

The loneliness kicks in and I shiver.

My vision blurs as a door opens. Muffled voices now. The end is near. God, I pray, does not exist.

Quickly something is wrapped around my wrists. Shackles. The metaphor is finally based in reality.

A sensation of floating overtakes my body.

Free at last, free at last.

My eyes open. I scream at them to close. They won’t. I scream for them to not focus. They do.

I’m here, alone, surrounded by hundreds of blank faces.