Seek Read Online Free PDF

faster. My body responds to his touch by leaning into his hand, looking for more. His fingers squeeze my flesh, and I love every second of it. I want nothing more than for this man, whom I barely know, to make it all okay again.
    Suddenly, a loud bang makes me turn around. The door slams open. In panic, I shriek.
    “What’s the matter with you?” the lady says.
    “What are you doing in here?” I yell. Other patients appear behind her back and stop in their tracks. They’re watching me like I’m putting up a show.
    “Checking up on you, of course. Who were you talking to?” the lady says.
    As if she can’t see him. “… Sebastian.”
    She raises an eyebrow as I turn around and look behind me. Sebastian is gone. Gasping, I check the room, but my eyes can’t find him anywhere. Did he slip through the window?
    “Miss … there’s no one here, and you know that as well as I do.”
    “He was. Sebastian was here.”
    “Stop lying and fantasizing. Get your head out of your ass, girl,” one of the patients yells.
    I make a face, and the lady turns around to face her. “Get out of here!” She says that often, but it never helps. Patients flock to drama. Right now, I am the drama, apparently.
    “Whatever.” The girl shrugs. “I’m not in the mood for watching some fake make-out session.”
    “It’s not fake!” I yell.
    I step closer, but the lady puts her hands on her sides. “Stay back. I will not have another fight on my hands. Behave . Both of you.”
    “Sorry,” the girl says as she walks away, but behind the lady’s back she makes a gesture that insinuates I’m kissing myself. I flip her the finger.
    “Okay, that’s it. No shower for you, then.” I’m dragged out of the shower, pulled by my arm, as the door shuts behind me. I don’t care about a shower. It was worth it.
     
     

 
    Accompanying song: “Covenant” by Snowghosts feat. Blue Daisy
     
     
    Summermount Psychiatric Hospital – April 19 th , 2013
     
     
    Civilization is a lie. We tell ourselves we have class, we behave according to social norms we invented—laugh when we should laugh, even when it’s not funny, pray when we should pray, even when we don’t agree, shake hands as if we actually care, tell someone we’re fine, when we truly aren’t. I used to think all of it mattered, too. I believed that if I’d dress a certain way, people would think ‘now that’s a beautiful, charming lady’. That if I didn’t ask questions and did as I was told, the world would be nice to me.
    What an incredible load of nonsense. The world is cruel. I found out firsthand.
    None of it matters.
    Not in here. Not how you look or how you act. Everyone’s crazy, anyway, so nobody’s going to judge you if your hair is messy or if your face is saggy. Clothes don’t matter. I used to be a girl who loved the colorful dresses and hats, accompanied by eye-catching jewelry and a bit of makeup. Now? Not so much. It just doesn’t matter anymore. When you have conformed to living in the midst of chaos, you realize all of it is just so unimportant. When nobody else cares, why should I? The longer I’m here, the less I care about what I look like. Or who I am. In here, there is no real need to express yourself. The only thing that matters is getting better, fixing yourself—which is exactly what I’m avoiding, as well.
    All patients ramble on and on about the progress in their treatment, like it’s some sort of achievement when you’re faster than someone else. Being in this institution reminds me of high school. Everyone wants to be the popular one—only in here, it means the more insane, the better. Women turn into bitches with the snap of a finger. It’s as if they all want to protect their own sanity and attack someone else’s, so they feel better about their own depravity. What a joke. We’re behaving like kids, and nobody gives a shit. Worst part is that I’m actively engaging them. I know I shouldn’t, but who else will protect my