“What is the centre?” She croaked. White coats, chains and cuffs steamrolled her calm, invaded her prison and got her heart racing. Sarah was in a blue trench coat, heels and laughing behind her eyes at poor Her, croaking with dilated pupils.

“The centre is the place where you will recover.” White coats, chains and cuffs loomed over the hump of her mind. Strange serums, calculations and charts. Enclosed spaces, mouldy curtains and dusty corners.

“You must stop worrying, the centre is a place of recovery. It is a place where you can be yourself, learn about yourself and love yourself for who you are and not for what others wish you to be.”

 

“Where is the centre?” Pupils still dilated, reaching for the very corners of the lids they were encased in. Lip trembling, teeth clawing at the edges of her fingertips. Sarah smiled.

“Is it far?”

“No. It is where you belong, you know that.” Sarah’s eyes were filled with pity, cocking her head, listening and watching.

“What if I do not want to go to the centre? What will happen to me if I refuse?” Her fingertips were ragged, jagged and raw.

“You must stop worrying, the centre is a place of recovery. It is a place where you can be yourself, learn about yourself and love yourself for who you are and not for what others wish you to be.”

 

“Who will be at the centre?” Loneliness was ever present, happy to linger. Anxiety was unpredictable, fickle and rubbish at sticking to plans. Depression was a bully, selfish and always talked about itself.

“Will Loneliness, Anxiety and Depression be there?”

“Yes, they will. But you’ll meet new people too.”

“Who?”

“Well, Me of course. Now stop worrying. Be yourself, love yourself and button up your blue trench coat, we have a meeting to go to.”

A response to: The Daily Prompt – Center.
Center

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