Isolated Room (short vent story. Trigger warning: depressing) · 3:38am Nov 3rd, 2022
The walls surrounding me mock in shadowy jeers. I stare at the ceiling in my arm chair, feeling my face slide down more and more as I grow tired. I’m always tired. My shoulders feel disconnected, my muscles are reluctant to move, the constant crawling of invisible insects haunt my skin. A pit sits in my stomach as the mockery of production continues. The days slipped by since I have last slept soundly. I’m so tired.