So, this is the first actual Attic piece. A rewrite from when I was still in middle school. I have included the original, followed by its conceptual reimagining. The original was simply fluff, with no substance or plot, and I have tried to spice it up a bit, add some coherence to it while maintaining the original circular concept. Still, it works mainly as a fluff piece, not really anything. Just a way to pass the time and keep my typing fingers active on a snowy New Year’s Eve. Speaking of, Happy New Year!
Original now behind “Read More” link, updated version is the one displayed in short form. Thanks for reading!
I am not insane. I swear it. Even as they toss me into this dull room, full of its artificial lights and safe edges, I will proclaim my sanity. Because I am not crazy; I simply have seen the things they cannot—will not. I am no harm to myself or others, I only threaten the safe bubble of denial that has so carefully cradled them all these years.
I know what I have to say sounds insane—but is that not a mark of my own sanity? I do not dare proclaim these things with assurance of their rationality, because I initially doubted. I saw the things I saw and hoped that I was losing my mind. Instead, I have been forced to accept that what I see is in fact the reality shrouded around me. You see, when I closed my eyes, I could see what lies beyond. I could see the horrors of the hidden present, as well as the looming dangers of the coming future. They told me these were hallucinations, complex visual, auditory, and olfactory hallucinations. Rare, yes, but not unheard of. However, these “hallucinations” only appeared when I closed my eyes. Eyes open, I could see the world just like you do. Others told me I was dreaming, some strange form of REM disorder and narcolepsy. But I sleep dreamless at nights; sleep is the only time I can find relief from these images. Though now I grow fearful to let myself drift away, for fear of what may be waiting beyond the veil.
I must admit, I have always gotten jumbled at times. It is hard to tell which vision is the present and which is the future. Even when I had my eyes open, I was never sure how much of what I saw hovered beyond my wide-eyed vision ethereally or temporally.
I’m sure you’re curious. After all of this, what insanity have I seen? I see the world with the stage trappings torn away. There are spirits in this world that work beyond the realm of human perception. There are beautiful beings that bring peace and healing. I have seen them drift into a room, alight with grace, and bring calming with a touch. I watched once while one hovered about my screaming infant cousin, saw as it reached out a single hand and touch her chubby cheek. And she stopped screaming, instead began cooing. Everyone else in the room assumed it was the fickleness of babies, but I could see.
Of course, seeing beauty is not why they have locked me away. I see the darker beings that rip through our world. They are numerous, swift, and deadly. They sow discord, hate, and anger. And they can kill. Being in the places I have, sitting in a prison cell or bound to a psychiatric bed, I have seen how they can latch onto others. They goad us people to action, lift our hands to strike one another. They reach into us, contort our thoughts. In the hospital once, I saw them smother a man. The doctors informed the family he died peacefully in his sleep, but the tormented man I watched was anything but peaceful. Not content to wreak havoc alone, I have also seen what they do in the future. I have seen them rip apart the beautiful beings, leaving our worlds in their hands alone. I have seen a future drenched in blood and violence, a crumbled civilization ruled by animal instincts rather than human reason. I have seen the nations turned over to pure id, and the destruction sowed. The worst of all, I can feel it coming now. They have begun to rip the wings from the others, mar their lovely faces and drag them into the putrid muck of their world. The light is failing now, and I am a helpless observer to what is coming.
I’m sure I startled some with my decision, the one which led me here. But once you’ve seen those things, seen how they creep and sneak and kill, how could you ever open your eyes again? It was easier to remove my eyes; I do not need them to see the world around me any longer. I see our world, a dim image overlaid with the spectral reality that so tortures me. People are always amazed at how I can see, recognize, and move as if my eyes are still resting peacefully in their sockets. I simply see in a new way. And so, because of this, because of my curse and my attempt to save my own life, I have been locked away against my will. I am crazy, mentally ill, a resistant schizophrenic who tongues my pills and refuses to cooperate with therapy. So, here I sit. My mind is no help in tracking my progress here, content as it is to swim erratically through the present and the future. I do not think I have been here long, but perhaps I have drifted from the present to the past. Even now, I lose track of which now I am living in. I lose track of my own thoughts, slipping away and flowing through the streams of time.
But I am not insane. I swear it. Even as they tossed me into this dull room, full of its artificial lights and safe edges, I proclaim my sanity. Because I am not crazy; I simply have seen the things they cannot—have not.
But they will.
Originally Written 12.28.2005
I am not insane. I swear it. Even as they tossed me into the white room, full of artificial light and safe edges, I proclaim my sanity. You see, I am not Insane. I hold some different views, but that is no reason to lock me away. I am no harm to myself or others. The word is possibly even better with me in it.
I can’t be insane. Can’t you see I am perfectly reasonable, rational? I don’t hear voices, I don’t want to hurt myself, I don’t want to burn or destroy things, and I don’t believe in little green men. I’ve never drunk a drop in my life or even had a mental breakdown. I’m normal, a little more outside-of-the-box than the government likes, but not crazy.
Or am I?
Obviously, I answer my own question. The ability to question my sanity proves that I am not in denial. It proves I am in perfect control of my own thoughts.
Unless, of course, this rationalization is my way of staying in denial. The problem with insanity is that you never know if you’ve gotten there unless someone else tells you, and they may very well have another agenda. Ah, now here I go, sounding all paranoid. That I am not, I assure you. I just know people in general can’t be trusted because they are inherently evil. That is one of the simple lessons life taught me.
One thing I can be sure of in this white box is that, if I must stay here too long, I will definitely lose my sanity, assuming it is still there.
I could sit here hours pondering my own mind and never find a way out. It is a circular creation, folding back in on itself at the most inopportune times.
Am I crazy? Is that possible? I don’t think so, but the shrink does. Could he be wrong? Could I?
How long have I been caged here? It feels like days, possibly years, but as I look at the impassive clock on the wall, only minutes have passed.
You see, I can never be sure where my mind is currently residing, be it sane or no. But yet, I almost know that I am sane. My mind is perfectly reasonable. I can think! Perhaps I can speak; I’ve had no reason to try and no one to talk to in…is it truly only fifteen minutes? This place will soon drive me mad. But you see,
I am not insane. I swear it. Even as they tossed me into the white room, full of artificial light and safe edges, I proclaim my sanity…
This work by Katherine C is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.