They are reading my diary, I know, I woke up the other week with the feeling someone had been in my room, it was just a sense, a linger in the air, I brushed it off thinking maybe it was just the new place, a quirk of the hospital. This morning I woke up and went immediately to the draw in my desk, my diary was there placed carefully as I set it the night before, but something was different, one little corner, that was all, just one corner that had been slightly turned over. I knew immediately that they had been reading it, one I left it the night before the diary was in perfect condition, now it was not and considering the nurses lock the doors at night it could only be them who read it. I can feel their eyes on me, watching constantly, noting every movement, every twitch… I bet they’re listening too, hearing every private conversation, every whisper, digging through the trash to find the notes we give to one another. Nothing is secret here and everything they gather, every droplet of information they use against us, to control us, what drugs do they give us as well? How do I know they aren’t slowly poisoning me? I am sure they are sedating me, I feel sluggish on them, forgetful, how do I know they aren’t doing things to me, things to my brain when I sleep?
I must remain emotionless here, a void of a human being if I give away anything they will take me for treatment again, hypnosis, the thought terrifies me. I know I can’t let them know I know they read the diary so I’ll rip this page out and hide it somewhere, I’ll even eat it if I have to.
Psychotic Kids 