I couldn't sleep last night. I couldn't sleep the nights before that too. Who is to blame anyway?

Dr. Rumana told me to stick my head out, socialize, and tuck my life back into my body, but a depressed soul like me is more likely to be an introvert, and an insomniac. The more I think about it, the more I feel like sitting in the corner of my room, alone. A faint voice in my head telling me to bash out through the doors and run away, stand in the middle of the crowd, shout and let people know about my existence, but I remain trapped in the chains, preventing me to even stand up.

Why is it always dark in here? Why do I feel so cold? Oh, it's Toronto, silly me! But it doesn't seem right. It's the middle of June: an extremely hot day, but I'm shivering; shivering with the thoughts of what may lie ahead for me. My future: the dark and bitter truth, about to expose itself soon to me, and make me miserable once again.

I thought about taking the papers off of the windows, opening up the blinds, and staring down the alley at people walking in the sun, enjoying and beaming in the sunshine that is desperate to fall on their faces. I thought about letting the sun shine on my face too, and feel its warmth. But wait! How could I? How could I even think for a moment about leaving this darkness? This is me, the true me; how could I even think about leaving … myself. So, instead, I chose to sit down, get lost in my thoughts again, and return to my world of creepiness.

I hear footsteps walking towards me, I feel hands touching me all over my body, I hear creepy voices, eerie screams, and some weeping. I stand up, leading myself towards the unknown voices. I hear water splashing in the bathroom; I hear giggles of little girls playing, I hear the creaking of my bed from my bedroom. I shout, “Who is it?!” and suddenly feel cold as ice, with goosebumps all over my body: signs indicating a presence nearby. I hear a whisper just by my ear, “Sshhh...” that gave me chills down my spine. I run back to my spot and hear laughing and whispers mocking my fearfulness. I can't help being scared. I should, probably, get used to it by now, but somehow I'm not. Rather, it keeps coming back worse than ever. I try to sleep to let go all of this and doze off, but fail.

I couldn't sleep last night. I couldn't sleep the nights before that too. Who is to blame anyway?