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The Fishbowl-Personal Narrative

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She grasped my hand to release my mind from the trance. I stroked my fingertips over the wrinkles that adorned my mother’s weathered hands: the past few months had aged her greatly. For the second time this week, I sat in the cold magenta box where doctor after doctor, therapist after therapist had prised into the glass fishbowl that balances on my shoulders. They hope to understand. So do I. A garish yellow glow spat from the overhead lamp, letting shadows dance in the darkened corners of the room. From the fuzzy edges, they scuttled. Tiny haired legs and round ink-blobs slid down the walls, like bows gliding over the strings of a maple violin. Trailing behind them were glistening silver paths, shimmering in what limited brightness there was …show more content…

I began to panic, as more and more of the black dots climbed into me, wriggling up my arms like worms in the rain, hurting me more and more. I dug my nails into my body, trying to stratch them out, to no avail. I couldn’t take the pain, the persistent feeling of being stabbed by a thousand tiny needles, pricking harder and harder each time, the uttermost betrayal from my only friends, the only ones who ever knew me. The fishbowl began to crack, like icy roads in the Monday morning rush. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer and began to scoop out the bugs, slowly at first, but then as more began to form, I picked up the pace. Every time I managed to flick one body to the tiled floor, another would begin to crawl up from my toes, coating me in a layer of darkness. My body was numb as lines of ruby appeared on my arms, but my heart raced uncontrollably. Trickles of water slithered down the glass. Slowly, the dots began to fade, almost reducing into mist and floating away, how the trees return to stillness after a storm, as a sea of garnet rushed over me. But this state of relief did not last long- a dark shadow formed in the doorway, blocking all light entering the room. It looked like a shadow; as dark as hell, it spoke words of sin and hate, with a voice low enough to shatter glass. I staggered backwards, and held myself up using the counter behind me. It launched forward, grabbing towards my arms, wrapping around me, choking me in smoke. A waterfall gushed over my face, drowning me. I couldn’t

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