Rabbit hole
I woke up again, It was still the same, the mask still clinging, suffocating. "Tomorrow" had arrived, yet nothing changed. The cycle persisted.
In class, our teacher's words dripped like honey—sweet, yet suffocating. Students exchanged rehearsed laughter. I mimicked their smiles.
At lunch, the cafeteria transformed into a theatrical set. Actors reciting lines, playing roles. I played mine.
Home was no refuge. my foster parents' questions echoed hollowly: "How was school?" "Did you eat?" I responded mechanically.
Even dreams betrayed me. Her presence haunted me, reminding me of genuine connection. But dawn shattered the illusion.
One evening, I admitted defeat. The cycle consumed me. Breaking free seemed impossible.
Next morning, the mask greeted me, its weight crushing. "I can't stop," I whispered, voice trembling. "I'm trapped."
The world remained a stage. I, a captive actor. Forever doomed to recite lines, wear the mask.
Days blended together. Despair wrapped around me like a shroud. Was this my forever?
Every day drove me into a deeper, pitiful depression. Was it really that worth it to live?