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 loose 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…

---

The doctor strode down the hall, making his rounds. He tapped the door, turning to the young woman whose eyes stared blankly at multiple screens from behind her desk.

“Anything new?” he asked, preparing to make notes on the chart of the poor young thing in the room.

The nurse shook her head. “Nothing. She sits there, looked at the clock at exactly 4:52, exactly fifteen minutes later than last time, I should add, and retuned to sitting.”

“Poor thing, muttered the doctor as he made the necessary notation, “it’s as if she’s trapped herself in her own mind, replaying again and again for nearly fifteen years now.” He sighed, shook his head, and strode off down the hall towards the next set of rooms and his next set of patients.

---

Hehe. Strange little idea, written at Midnight last night. In case anyone out there cares, The next Chapter of Betrayal will be up....sometime. It is halfway done, but I just ned some time. And for the next few weeks, I'm out of town on the weekends. We'll see how it goes. Well, ket me know what you think. Later!

GdlN