I pass out and as my neck droops, the needles hit vital veins and arteries. I suddenly teleport, still gushing blood. I seem to be in an empty city on the top of a sky scraper. I stood up, wincing and felt like something was missing. They would be talking right now, but... "Oh," I whispered in realization, "they took a piece of my soul with them." I say this as if it's obvious or even normal, but I don't really know what normal is. I've never been exposed to "normal" for more than 10 minutes. I feel silver eyes on me. I think of its  literal meaning and hear a shriek followed by a slimy feeling in my palms. I glance down in horror to find two bloody, silver eye balls glaring blankly up at me. Talk about trying to survive your own mind. As I remembered the shriek I heard, I turned around frantically looking for whoever's eyes these are. I see them on the floor behind me, their hair gray and uneven, as if it had been yanked on.  Their skin was light gray and had many bleeding scars on it.they groaned and looked up. I wished it all away.

       I was falling through sobbing winds for what seemed like hours. I had wished it all away; that's what it did. I think reality is strange, sometimes even stranger than fiction. I hope there isn't anything hard at the bottom of- I died. I was given a chance. A chance to have anything my mind could think of, and I screwed it up. My mind didn't deserve to go on. It was too screwed up. Too broken. Too  imperfect.