A distant golden light shone from the blue heavens one early morning.

As a lay underneath an old willow tree, I could hear the tiny birds playing in the leaves, one calling and the other replying instantly. I lay upon the luscious deep green meadows covered in beautiful dandelions, as I reminisced about times I once had across this beautiful meadow. This meadow was mine; I belonged here under the suns watchful gaze and the trees observant eyes, protecting me from the nightmares of reality. I smell the flowers that surrounded me as I stare at the fluffy clouds slowly drifting through the sky, anxious to move on to another land. Sometimes I think I see her in the clouds, watching me like she used to. I image her sitting in the nearby hammock protecting me always. I often see her in the corner of my eye, only to realise my mind is playing tricks on me once more. Her perfume still lingers in the fabrics on the hammock always reminding me of her presence. That was of course before everything changed. *** A Friday afternoon spent in a room full of old washed out curtains, white bed linen, white blankets. Even the walls and floors are covered in the boring shade of white. I know exactly where I am, where else could I be but in the depths of sickness itself. I notice the flowers in my room have been changed and my water jug is full once more. Someone has been here, was it the devil himself. It comes in my room sometimes, whispers things sometimes, promises things sometimes. I wonder if Im crazy? Doubt it since no one cares about me. I am forever alone in this white abyss. I long for my mother, she is alive somewhere, they say she is gone forever but this cannot be true. The flowers are changed are they not? Could someone be spying on me? No, I dont think so. A lady with a funny accent comes in, she sits down on the white chair, she speaks and I listen, she speaks once more and I listen, then she stops. I cannot tell you for how long. The understanding of time has eluded me. Ok then B, I shall see you same time tomorrow. *** I am in the meadow once more I am with my mum. It must be a holiday. This place is so much more accommodating than the white walls of hell. I see the dandelions seem to be fading they look sadder than before. The trees look a little sadder, sky I little greyer. Where is my mother, maybe she is hiding amongst the grass, waiting to surprise me? I find her lying in her hammock, the smell of her perfume strong even though surrounded by other vibrate scents. My hand touches hers and before I realise she has pulled me into a motherly hug. I wish we could stay like this forever, I no we can. That was of course before everything changed. *** I am once again surrounded by white, but this time I do not feel the constant pull to the meadow, I do not feel its presence, its love. Something is different. Something has changed. My eyes begin to water and my heart beats faster and faster. I lose my sight first, followed by my ability to move. My ears ring and the pain begins to flood through me. The pain I have pushed out for so long. The pain that put me in this place. All the pain that did this to me, that changed me, that isolated me. Maybe I should give in this time. No one is here to stop me this time. I will give in. I take the knife from under my pillow and slice my wrists down to my elbow. Not soon after my hearing finally escapes me. I am now free. ***

 Poor child, she was troubled, never truly with us. Lovely girl, but everyone knew she lost her mind after her mothers death. She just couldnt handle loss, I guess. How can you feel sorry for her, she was crazy, I hated being her nurse, trying to stop her from doing just this, I think she did it just to spite me. How dare you say such a thing! Never speak ill of the dead, they will come and haunt you. I dont care, she cant be as bad as she was living Never mind that now, she is at peace, let her be with her mother, she used to tell me about her mother, and this place, this beautiful place, filled with everything good, she used to say. She said there was never a dull moment in this place. I would have liked to see it, as her psychologist. I thought she would have told me about this place, but then again it was her place, the only place she truly belonged. Poor child, I am so sorry, I should have tried harder. *** A distant golden light shone from the blue heavens one early morning. As a lay underneath an old willow tree, I could hear the tiny birds playing in the leaves, one calling and the other replying instantly. I lay upon the luscious deep green meadows covered in beautiful dandelions, as I reminisced about times I once had across this beautiful meadow. This meadow was mine; I belonged here under the suns watchful gaze and the trees observant eyes, protecting me from the nightmares of reality. I guess I dont need protection now, I am free, I am with my mother, I am with God.