Tuesday, August 19th-Scariest Place

They come and take you in the middle of the night. Away from your home and everything that you love. They take you to the farthest end of the Earth, through a simple, grey building. Then, they take you down, into the depths of the Earth, a place that the sane have never seen. The air is oppressively warm, almost stifling. It takes a great effort to draw in each breath. The only scent in the air is that of a hospital, clean and with a hint of medicinal alcohol. They take you down a spotless white hallway, and at the end, they throw you into a padded cell in complete darkness. Here you are imprisoned; not only in the dark room that is so hot that you can barely breath, but you are locked in the most horrifying place imaginable: the mind. The soul is always sane and fighting imprisonment if the mind remains free to wander. But here, completely alone, in the silence,  in the endless, stifling dark, there is no where free to go, no happy memories to recall or happy lands to visit. For this is now the land of nightmares, and there can be no escaping it.
Oh, the things the mind can come up with. Unable to hear, see, or hardly even breath, there is nothing from stopping the mind from delving into the deepest of unspoken secrets, the worst fears, and the most nagging doubts. There is no light, no sound, no companionship. The mind desperately seeks this; wants this. It begins to deteriorate, starved of all hopes and joys in the world. How long can you hold out? How long can you stop the mind from slipping? Does the world even continue, do the wheels of time still turn? Alone in the dark, it is impossible to know. Have you been here for an hour? A day? A month? Year? Everything good in the mind begins to abandon you; it becomes so hard to remember. What were the names of your friends and family? Are they looking for you? Do they even know you are gone? The part of the mind that still fights was to know, but the rest continues to repeat the simple word: alone, alone, all alone. And, as the darkness grows and the silence thickens, another troubling thought crosses dying mind, and you even begin to forget your own name. In the silence you thought to be eternal, there begins to be sounds. Not pleasant sounds, but the pounding of war drums, the faint whispers of those you cannot see. Are these sounds coming from outside your cell? Inside? Or are they there at all? Is there any logic, any reason? Do you even exist, or have you been trapped in the darkness for all your life? Will you ever leave it's maddening grip? Will you ever be allowed to escape the realm of nightmares that exists inside your own head? Because if you cannot escape, not break out, then the darkness will come alive and swallow you whole, and you will finally be allowed to sleep.