It was dark.
There were screams everywhere — not painful screams, but screams that carried my name. Every horrible word that ever existed in this world seemed to be there too.
My head was hurting. I felt like I couldn’t stand.
I looked through the window.
There was a mother, cherishing her child.
For a moment, I stared at them.
Then I looked back.
Nothing.
Nothing at all.
Except a wall.
Cold. Hard. Standing still.
But somehow, it was good.
Because I could always lean on it.
And it never pushed me away.
It was cold, but at least it was there for me. It had always been there.
It was dark, but there was always noise.
There was blood too.
It was coming from my heart.
The poor thing had been thrown away. It had been hurt too many times. Grabbed from my chest and stabbed again and again, never given enough time to heal.
Get PHANTOM’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
Poor thing.
It never got the chance.
I was crouching on the ground because in that place, you could be hit from any direction.
I tried covering my ears.
Nothing worked.
Tears filled my eyes, but I couldn’t do anything.
I was helpless.
I starved.
And then I saw them.
Eyes.
They were everywhere.
Watching me.
Staring straight through me.
I was scared.
I wanted to hide. I wanted to disappear at any cost.
But there was nowhere to go.
No place to hide.
Then —
Bells rang.
I opened my eyes.
It was another day.
Another day in Hell.



