Can't You See? Silver Ookami Oct 06/03 I pace the walls of my prison, my feet shuffle along the familiar patterns I tred so often. My eyes are blank and unseeing, I already know what my cage looks like. Blue curtains, white blankets... There are bars in the windows. My fingers have traced them thousand times before, and will a thousand times again. I could pound at the window, bang at the door, would anyone hear? I could curl up in a ball, hide under my bed, would anyone notice? My breath hitches raggedly and burns through my lungs as it seeks it's own escape. My eyes sting with tears that don't wish to be shed. To many tears have fallen before, they threaten to drown me, they fill my room to the brim. I could scream at the top of my lungs, or I could whisper for help, both would mean the same and both go unanswered. There's no one inside here with me to tell if I did, to come comfort my calls. I clutch at my blankets, my hands grasping like claws at the soft cool sheets. My bed is soft, my TV blares, my stereo sings and I'm still a prisoner alone. I pass through unnoticed as I go about my own way. I'm too far from the path but no one comes following to help lead me back. I'm lost. There are bars on the windows, can't you see them? Cool and real, I watch hands reach through them, past them and beyond me. I can't follow, they stop me, hold me back and within, the guardians of my prison. I cry soundlessly and run to the door, looking at the bright shiny lock that only I can see. No one else knows, no one else notices as I stare hoplessly through the window to life, the thin glass a gulf wider than I can imagine crossing. There's a lock on the door and I lost the key.... I don't know where it is anymore, I can't find it.... ....I'm not sure I want to.... ....I forget what it's like to be out there and I'm scared.... Can't you see? *NOTE* - This little story is really more about the longing for freedom coupled with the pains of confinement. This is really how I think/feel about the freedom others experience but I shelter myself away from out of fear. The story is completely internal and isn't a slight against my parents, it is about the fact that within myself my cries are unheard and I can offer no help to myself. (For those that are unaware, I have Social Anxiety Disorder, a condition which keeps me mostly inside and away from most contact with anyone other than my parents.)