For a moment I can see without any darkness, I thought I found my light. I anticipated the sight of rarity on the other side of this wall, but loss is inevitable for somebody with such a mind as mine. Only a second later my support collapsed from beneath me and I fell down, slicing my wrists on the barbed wire. Landing hard on the pavement made me numb, but the blood from my open wounds woke me up and made me feel alive. But, they stopped bleeding, and the barbed wire was removed. Apparently my blood is degrading, it classifies me as being "sick," when it is the only thing helping me to keep breathing. And now I have a few blades in the corner of my bedroom but I don't know how to use them; do I listen to my head or listen to my therapist? I try not to let my mind win, but sometimes the darkness becomes too much. But, the moment the blade touches my fingers, I start to tremble and tears find their ways down my cheeks because I realize how I haven't changed at all. Rage takes control of my body and the blade goes hurtling through the air before smacking against the wall, but there's blood stains on my skin. A breakthrough that will keep me chained here forever.