I feel like I am fighting in a war in my mind. Every day I get sliced, stabbed, picked and probed at, and out of all the wounds blood comes rushing out. I feel the blood drip down my body and I can see the wounds, and they hurt.

But there's this voice in the back of my head that tells me I have to stop being so soft; that I'm just making the wounds up in my head. All because I'm too **** lazy. The voice screams at me to get up and to keep fighting and that I have to keep fighting until I'm dead. Death is time that I am allowed to rest.

So I keep running and I keep fighting, but the voice in my head was wrong; and those wounds are real; and I'm slowly bleeding to death.

And I'm scared that one day I might not wake up again.