Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in the cellar. A dark cellar. A dark cellar filled with shadows. And the shadows whispered secrets. Secrets made me crazy.

Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in the earth. Damp earth. Damp earth that smelled of worms. And the worms crawled inside. Crawling made me crazy.

Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a memory. A broken memory. A broken memory of a child's laughter. And the echoes twisted. Twisting made me crazy.

Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a dollhouse. A silent dollhouse. A silent dollhouse with porcelain faces. And their eyes followed. Following made me crazy.

Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in my skin. A prison of skin. A prison of skin too tight to breathe. And the itching never stopped. Itching made me crazy.

Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in the void. The endless void. The endless void where screams have no sound. And the silence devoured me. Devouring made me crazy.

Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in hunger. A gnawing hunger. A gnawing hunger for something I could never name. And the emptiness consumed me. Consuming made me crazy.

Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me inside the mirror. A fractured mirror. A fractured mirror reflecting someone else's pain. And the reflection became real. Reality made me crazy.

Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in the absence. The absence of light. The absence of hope. The absence of self. And the nothing…the nothing is everything. Nothing made me crazy.

They locked me in a room. A rubber room. A rubber room with rats. And rats make me crazy.