#i cannot lay down or eat or whatever without an immense burning sensation from my throat 😁🤞

[merriclo]

eating a cracker and then physically recoiling bc oh fuck oh owie oh shit it burns i forgot i have acid reflux

[samanthatrim-blog]

He Always Knew

Screams echo through the concrete halls, startling all that were once sleeping. Nothing can be seen but blackness, broken with faint shadows that so bravely came in to visit. A woman roams the halls, checking in on its occupants. Many of the girls call her The Walker, since she lurks around the dimmed pathways. We are called The Screamers, but it’s obvious right now as to why. I cautiously walk to my door, unable to leave due to the locked doors that hold me inside. This place reeks of oppression. Upon looking down the hall, I see the farthest girl being dragged from her place. Everyone who surrounds me seems to be absolutely insane. We all sit in cages, never being allowed to see the light of day. We are observed and recorded, as if we’re exotic animals on display. All of The Keepers surrounding us wear strictly white or blue. They tell us that they’re here to help us, but I know better.

No one will tell me why I am here.

I am not one of them.

I am not a Screamer.

The Keepers know why I was sent here, but none will tell me why.

Every day, a man named Devin comes to my cage and speaks to me about how I am doing. Of all The Keepers, we were the only two on a first name basis. He tries to cover his true intentions, but I know better. He believes that I’m one of them. All of the girls around me scream in terror over things they cannot see. We are kept in darkness to avoid the screamers having breakdowns, but I long to live in the light. Devin tells me that my twelfth year of living is coming up, but what does that mean to me, another mark on the wall? So far, I am in year seven of being in this...whatever it is. They all tell me that I was sent to a special place for healing. Something is being hidden from me, but my mind -- and body -- remain in the dark. I still listen to Devin, although his overly sympathetic questions bore me to death. I’ve always wondered where he goes when he and the other Keepers leave us. The Walker stays all night to watch over us, but everyone else always leaves. A world outside of this hell seems impossible now that I’ve been here so long.

I try to tell them to let me leave.

I try to make them understand.

I am not a Screamer.

I am not one of them.

The Keepers walk into my cage with a rolling box. They all tell me that nothing is wrong, but I know better. As one of the Keepers tells me to lie down, another reaches for a sharp pointed object that lays on top of the cart. I scream in absolute terror. They try to reassure me that this is to help me stay healthy. My time has come to be tested and experimented on like all of these psychopaths that surround me. One Keeper calls for Devin, knowing that I trust him and only him in this asylum. While all of the other Keepers have chosen to stay away from me, Devin has come to visit me every single day since my eighth year. They tell me that he was assigned to me. No one believes me, except for Devin. He tries to help me understand myself, and not my situation. Therefore, I trust him and only him. Devin calmly walks into the room, and tells me to think of my happy place. We do this exercise frequently when my frustration builds up. I try to explain to him that they have the wrong person. Only the Screamers deserve this treatment. He tells me to relax, but I plead for his rescue. One of the Keepers jabs the weapons into my arm, and I panic. The strong one holds me down to keep from escaping, but I continue to scream for Devin. Oddly, I lose consciousness a few seconds after.

I am woken by a sound that I cannot recognize. It chirps quite consistently, but the source of it must be hidden. A piercing light shines into my eyes and hinders my sight. I adjust and examine my surroundings. Small chairs sit across from each other at an equally small table. The bed I lay on is clothed in white linens. Of all the odd things in this room, the most exotic thing I find is a picture. It sits on the wall, covered in glass. Large waves of green and small purple specks cover the ground, while large brown pillars come from the ground. Many of these seem to reflect a memory, but I cannot think of why. My eyes became fixated on the rolling fields of green, and a pressure arose within my chest. I had this feeling frequently. I was told that it is anxiety, but nothing seemed to be present to spark fear. Suddenly, a small creature bursts through the air, landing on one of the pillars outside. Frequent dreams of mine have contained portals similar to this, but the moving picture seems too real to be true. Devin calmly walks into the room, breaking my train of thought. While I trust him, these bizarre events have me on edge. He tells me that this picture is a window, showing me the outside world. Apparently I had a psychotic breakdown and was put in this room to be helped in a different way. No bars holding me in, and no darkness to consume me.

Devin listened to me.

The Keepers finally believe me.

I am not a Screamer.

I am not made for the darkness.

Devin and I sit at the two adjacent chairs and eat a well needed breakfast. He explains to me all that I see outside this window. He seems to know that I have lost some sort of memory, a key piece to this puzzle. His big words and sly attitude may fool some, but I know better. I become lost in the illuminated world outside. As the leaves blow in the wind, I begin to think back to before I came to this dungeon. My thoughts come full circle back to Devin, who is also gazing out of the large window. One question continues to lurk through my mind: how and why does he know so much about me? All of The Keepers seem to be intelligent -- minus their ability to listen to me -- but he is smarter than them all, especially when it comes to communicating how I feel. I decide to ask him why this is, and he gave me a haunting answer: “I know a lot more about you than you’ll ever know.” After answering me, he stood and left without another word. I sat in pure shock.

Devin knows about my past.

I can finally get answers.

I am not a Screamer.

And Devin knows.

I stayed awake all night pondering this new found source. The shimmer of the moon and stars sent a calming glow through my whole room. Sitting at the window, flashbacks began to flood my mind. This room and I had once been acquainted before, but the memory stays very vague -- a star-filled night, followed by a memory and psychotic breakdown, which lead to my exile of eternal darkness. All faces are blurred but one: Devin’s. My mind raced at the speed of light, challenging my entire view of The Keepers, Devin, and myself. If I had been in this room before and was taken to a secluded room, why was I brought back? While thousands of theories came to mind at once, I couldn’t stop thinking about the stars and how I’d seen them before. We’ve all seen stars, but this time felt different. The exact heaviness of mind that once engulfed my mind and body was present before in this exact situation, and I knew damn well that this was no coincidence. They tried to tell me the next morning that the stress made me anxious. They tried to tell me that Devin knew so much about me from being my social worker for four years, but I know better.

I had been there before.

I wasn’t crazy.

I wasn’t a Screamer.

I wasn’t just seeing things.

I woke up the next night feeling as if I needed to run to the ends of the earth. Immense terror overtook my whole body for an unknown reason. My chest tightened into knots while my knees gave under the pressure of trauma. Screams bellowed from my lungs as I feared what was to come, although nothing was there. Suddenly it appeared…

A memory.

I woke to the burning sensation of smoke filling my lungs. The walls of my small pink room had been painted with flames. Screams were coming from the stairs as I pushed my way towards the door. The horror within my home could not be compared to the gruesome scene that was witness just after running from the immense heat. My mother wailing -- in the hands of a man that she was just recently seeing -- for forgiveness and mercy while he strangled her with his bare hands. I yelled at the top of my lungs for him to let her go, but all that could be heard was gunshot. My mother got a bullet to the head, while mine was a shot to the heart. Turning, he kicked and beat my body into the ground I laid on. Awareness took its time while deciding whether to stay with me or to leave me behind. As I begged it to depart from me and take the pain with it, my gaze fell to the grass next to my eyes and the stars in the distance. My consciousness finally had mercy and left me alone. Just as it was saying goodbye, arms appeared as I was lifted off the cold and cruel dirt.

This was my answer.

Devin hurriedly came into my room and arms lifted my body from the cold and cruel floor. He placed my body on the bed that I had just recently fled from. Emotions poured from my eyes and heart as my mouth recited to him the memory that I had received. The stars, the grass, and the light that was so harshly taken away from me finally had a meaning. Shockingly, he sat with no emotion. An arm came around my shoulders and comforted much more than expected. Never in my four years with Devin did I worry of him leaving me, but now he knew all there was to know. The fear of myself even began to overtake me as I sat with my eyes in the pure white sheets. My thoughts began to flow from my mouth as a stream of emotion. Calmly, arms appeared and lifted my body from the cold and cruel bed. A small tattoo peeked from beneath his blue sleeves, bearing my name.

I knew these arms.

I knew these as rescue.

I am not a Screamer.

And Devin knew.

He had always known.