I glare at the clock as it continues to tick loudly. Every single tick that I hear reminds me that I'm stuck here. Stuck in this stuffy room with white walls all alone and it's honestly driving me insane. I guess that's what these rooms were made for.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
I groan loudly, placing my head in my hands.
I hate this place. Everyone tells me that it's my fault that I'm stuck here and that if I could control myself, I wouldn't have to be here anymore. They don't understand. Nobody ever has.
Even as a child, I was always different. The strange one. The weirdo.
Always, I was alone. The other children never wanted to play with me either. They told me to go away, to go play with someone else. But there was no one else.
Not until high school, at least.
High school is where I met Rosalie.
She accepted me for who I was and became my best friend. We had all the same classes and we were inseparable. I told my parents all about Rosalie and they were thrilled. "That's great, honey!" they'd said. They were so relieved that I wouldn't be alone anymore, and they decided that they wanted to meet her, so I invited her over for dinner.
That's when everything went downhill.
At 6:00, Rosalie arrived at my house. I didn't even hear the doorbell ring but she came into my room and greeted me. I hugged her, asking who'd let her in. She avoided my question and went out into the living room, where my parents were currently.
"Mom, Dad, this is Rosalie," I announced, as I followed her in.
They looked up, smiling at us. Their faces were full of excitement and happiness, before turning to confusion.
"Is she still taking off her coat?" my mother asked.
At this, I became confused.
"No. She's right here," I gestured to where Rosalie was standing, with a smile on her face.
"Very funny," my father said. "There's no one there."
I started becoming frustrated. "She's right here, Dad. Don't be rude to our guest."
My mother came over to me with a worried look and placed her hand on my forehead.
"Are you alright honey?" she asked.
I groaned. "Yes mom, I'm fine. Can we go eat dinner now that Rosalie is here?"
My mother looked frightened for a moment but then she said, in a soft voice, "Baby, there's nobody there. It's just the three of us."
I looked over to where Rosalie was standing, but she wasn't there anymore. My eyes searched the living room for a sign of her but there was none.
"She must've gone to use the restroom," I said, feeling uncertain.
I saw my parents exchange worried looks.
That night, they took me to a clinic that we had only ever driven past before.
It was there that I was told that Rosalie wasn't real. That it was all in my head.
I refused to believe it.
"NO!" I had screamed over and over. "YOU'RE LYING TO ME! I KNOW IT!"
They just wanted me to be alone, I told myself. They don't want me to have friends.
Why? Why didn't they believe me? Why did they want me to be lonely for the rest of my life?
It took three people to restrain me after my outburst.
I remember my mother crying as they dragged me away; my father comforting her as he tried to remain strong.
After that night, they decided that it would be best for me to stay in the clinic. My mother was reluctant to let me go, but my father managed to persuade her; telling her that it was what was best for my health.
And now, here I am.
Even Rosalie has left me. It's probably because of those pills that they shove down my throat every day.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
I'm all alone still, stuck with this damn clock.
In this room of white walls, I realize,
I'll always be alone.