The Mental Cage

The life of a some what normal girl.

Granted: I am an inmate of a mental hospital; my keeper is watching me, she never lets me out of her sight; there's a peephole in the door, and my keeper's eye is the shade of brown that can never see through a blue-eyed type like me.

The asylum where I lived was a place of carnage, well…at least in my mind. It was a sadistic place with tortuous hallways where people supplicated for care and compassion and were scolded by the animals that were supposed be taking care of them.

            I not sure how I ended up there in the first place and I most nearly drove myself crazy thinking about it. Being stuck in my cell caused me to become disconsolate and amenable, but if there was one thing I knew about my situation, it was that my keeper’s brown eyes would never see through a shade of blue like mine.

My keeper was an impassive and grizzly woman with an obdurate and incontrovertible bad attitude. She burdened me with her difficulties and problems and averred that everything was my fault. She would never see through me; she would never understand.

And after many years, I began to see things that my keeper couldn't, could understand things that my keeper couldn't. I could hear voices that would expatiate on and on and tell me about all of the things going on in the outside world. They wanted me to provoke trouble; they abetted me to escape and even showed me the opportune moment to do it. Little did I know that this was the inception of my slow decline into insanity. It wasn't until later that I realized how gullible I was and how confused I was about the entire situation that I was in. I understood how stupid I was when I realized that the entire thing was a dream.

I woke up instantly and realized that I had fallen asleep during another stupid lecture at school. I went home later that day and was greeted by my mom with this angry look in her eyes. She yelled at me for all my terrible grades and demanded to know why I had failed a math test. I stood there silently, my arms crossed, listening to her whine on and on. After a while I looked into her eyes.

Her brown eyes would never in a million years understand a blue-eyed type like me.

The End

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