There's Nothing Wrong with Me

Honest. I'm perfectly normal. It's the world that's fucked up, not me. I'm the normal one, and nobody will believe me. Instead, they would come in here and talk. And talk. And talk-I'm damn sick of talking. That's all I ever heard. "Do you want to talk about it?" What could I possibly say that would change anything? As if talking ever really solved the sort of problems I'm supposed to have.

See, I've always known that this world was a sham, but I never really had the proof until a few months ago. So what happened to change me from a somewhat jaded but relatively normal person into…well, whatever I am now? Something so simple, yet so utterly profound.

The sun rose one day, and the world started to melt.

Yes, read that sentence carefully. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that I must have been dreaming, or maybe saw a weird weather phenomena or some shit like that, right? I thought so at first myself, but it happened. The sun rose one day, and when it did, things started to change. But that…that I could have at least lived with, even though nobody else saw that things had changed. But then I noticed other things-like the fact that the trees were starting to melt. I'd be staring at a tree, and before my very eyes, it would, well, wriggle is the only way to describe it. Then the leaves would drip, green paint running down the brown trunk. Then the trunk would warp, and shimmer, and in no time at all there would be a green and brown puddle on the ground.

I tried telling people that the world was melting, and got laughed at. But then I noticed that the people were melting as well. It was almost like-have you ever dropped an ice cream cone on a sidewalk on a hot summer day and watched it slowly congeal into a sugary, gelatinous mess? That's what it's like seeing people melt-only not quite as interesting. Now, add the fact that they continue to talk while they melt, and you can understand why I had those nightmares. At least that's what They said they were-but I know better. They weren't nightmares. They were memories. Memories that They are trying to pass off as psychosis. But I'm not crazy. I'm really not.

I took every precaution to keep from melting-wrapped myself up from head to toe, stayed in my room in the nice cold air conditioner, and taped black curtains over the windows to keep out the sun. It was working too-I was managing to stay in one piece. The rest of the world could melt away into nothing-I was safe, locked away in my dark, cold room. The cold kept me alive-kept me intact.

Then They came for me. They came in the dark, wearing blinding white uniforms that made me think of vanilla ice cream. They came, and bundled me into an ambulance, blathering about how I'd suffered from a 'psychotic break from reality.' They took me to a place where the sun shone, and the rooms were hot, and I was sure that I was going to melt, like everyone else there. I tried to point out what was happening, but nobody paid any attention. I would watch in horror as each person that came to see me slowly melted into a puddle, their voices, loud with anger and frustration, still echoing in the hot, empty room.

"This is all in your head!"

"Nobody is melting!"

"You have to stop these fantasies!"

I never listened to Them, though. I was too busy trying to find a place to hide from the hated sun. I finally found a place-nice, dark, and cold. A place that They won't be able to get to. I made sure of that.

And just today, the very last person here melted. I can't be sure, but I think I may be the only person left alive in the entire world. I have no intention of finding out if that's true or not, though.

I'm not leaving this freezer.