Isolation.

There are some personal aspects that I prefer to keep to myself, and this is how I cope. Sometimes I smile. Sometimes I don't smile when I really want to. Self-control, I told myself. Whatever it was I had in mind, it was restrained, forgotten, void forever.

Sometimes I nod. I had no idea what they said, but I nodded. I never knew what good I was other than listening, so I nodded. There are so many of them, in a lot of shapes and forms. I found out that I did not even need to listen, I just had to nod, and nod I did, and have been ever since.

Eye contact is a big red light. I keep my sight low and narrow, careful by nature. It drains me and somehow there's a certain danger I could detect. I hated those sunbeam-like entities, charming and loud. I was a shadow, and they hurt my eyes.

She said I plug my ears too much it contorts my reality. Honey, if only you could hear what I heard you would wish you never had them. Noises, not sounds. Screeching, too close, and tangling knots in my brain. I want to scream, but nothing comes out. A little squeak, lost in the crowd.

"Dark in here," I whispered. It looms over and replied, "It keeps me alive."

"Cold, too."

"I like cold." It said, smiling.

And we're friends ever since. I never told anyone. It never wants to go away anyway.

In a sense, yes, I am isolated. I am in a box, yet you never knew. I am locked inside, deaf and dumb.

"You have the key. Unlock yourself out." You would say.

I would, but knowing what's out there, I'd rather starve myself inside. It keeps me company.