Crazy

Prompt: Write about being the only person to see a UFO.



I went crazy last month. It was an all out affair, for sure. I really let it all out - every frustration I ever experienced came to the surface and I guess you could say I completely lost my mind. My parents - upstanding, community oriented citizens - hosted a block party in our back yard last night. The entire neighborhood, including their dogs, turned out for the celebration. I think I was the only one not engaging in fake smiles and tons of eye-rolling behind backs. The cruel reality of the situation just sort of hit me in the face and I blew up.

It's a strange thing when one becomes a raving lunatic in a split second. I ripped at my long blonde hair with fingers more resembling claws than a young woman's dainty, uncalloused hands; screaming and roaring at the band, I caused them to scramble off the stage in fear that I would bite them (and truthfully, I would have); I ran around in a figure eight pattern while growling at anyone who came close and taking pure delight in the fear that sparkled in their eyes; I bit my own arms until they bled, and worried at the wounds like an animal - the list goes on and on. Pure and simple, the undeniable truth was I had gone completely insane. It was a truth I didn't even mind so much, it seemed preferable to living life as a fake.

Apparently, people tend to take something like that very seriously. I was in a straight jacket, surrounded by police and creepy looking doctors quicker than I can take a shower, and forcefully escorted into a room-like eight by eight cell. It is furnished with a bed, a table that drops down from the wall and folds back up to save space, a chair - which was taken away from me within the first hour because I kept biting it - and a barred window set up too high for me to actually touch.

Though not prison - I'm allowed to use a bathroom rather than a toilet in my cell - it has become increasingly clear to me that I am not an honored guest. Time is spent lying backward on my bed, staring out the window, watching the sky. Birds fly past on their journey to wherever it is they go, and I make pictures out of the clouds - basic, bored type activities.

Now, the problem. Ending up clinically insane didn't faze me. My family disowning me turned out to be a blessing. I could care less, really - my life wasn't all it was cracked up to be anyway. No, the problem is that about twenty minutes ago, as I was gazing out my window I saw an honest to god UFO. It wasn't the kind you see in movies; there was no flashing lights or disc-like halo around it. Its wings were like an airplane but there was no body, just rows and rows of pin-sized lights all along it. I swear it hovered in one spot for what seemed like forever. I yelled and banged on the door to alert the guards, who came running at my call.

"There's a UFO outside of my window!" I cried incredulously.

The guard grunted and laughed cruelly as he spoke into his radio. "Never mind, Sir. It's just another delusion."

So, now you see my dilemma. I am probably the only person in the entire complex that saw that UFO, but I'm crazy, so what does it matter?



Word Count: 600