There's a dark place in the attic, a small space, not a room really, where I never want to go. The roof slopes too close to my head, the walls close in on my shoulders, the door sticks shut and I cannot get out, I feel I will never get out. I am alone in there, I never go, I never open the door, I am just suddenly there. My thoughts are huge nails that protrude from the ceiling, the walls, the floor and I am pierced over and over as I maneuver to avoid them. Each move takes me away from one thought only to be pierced with another. I am so consumed with wanting the pain to stop but I cannot escape it, the door will not yield. Should I be still and rest against the nails as they slowly take the blood from my body and end my life? Or do I keep twisting, squirming, banging against the door in the feeble hope of escape?

 If I only knew how long this will last but I never do....I never do.

by Mark LeBlanc