Asylum

White.
It's everywhere. White walls. White floors. White ceiling. White bed. Even white clothing. 
White. Everywhere. A never-ending canvas of white. 
And not the nice white. Not the comfortable white of snow in the winter. Not the warm white of cream swirls in coffee. Not even the gentle white of a cloud. 
No, this white is a harsh, sterile white. The kind of white that is just so unnatural that it almost hurts to see. It's also the white of hospitals. Which is exactly why it is such an awful colour. A colour that brings back memories of standing by the sickbed of a loved one who never came home. Memories of pain. Memories of being the one in the hospital. Being the one in pain. 
Pain is bad.
Hospitals are full of pain.
Henceforth, hospitals are bad. 

Suddenly the wall opens.
No.. not the wall.. A door. A door designed to look like the wall surrounding it. 

There are three shadows in the doorway. Two are tall and big, and the other is small. The two tall shadows step into the room.
My room.
I try to push myself farther into the corner of the room where I'm already curled up in a ball. 
It doesn’t work. They can still see me. They are going to make me leave.
But this is my room.

With the two figures slowly advancing towards my hiding place, I bury my head under my arms and press myself as far into the corner as I can go. 

"Hey Frank... It's okay.. It's us"
One of them coos.
That's what they always say. The voices. The Shadows. The horrible horrible creatures that won't leave me alone. But it’s never truly okay. It never is.

"W-who are you?" my voice comes out weak and hoarsely, and why shouldn't it? I haven't used it in... A month? More? I didn't know anymore. I've stopped scratching marks in the wall a long time ago. I’m not even sure what year it is anymore.

"Mike and Kurt. Remember us?" one murmurs softly. 

Mike and Kurt.
I know those names.
How do I know those names? I’m alone in here, in my room, by myself… there’s nobody else in the world because I’m alone.
Right?

Mike and Kurt… They.. they were part of the staff. 
..But what if they're lying?
What if it's not them?
That was just a dream.
The only reality is this soft white room and everything else is just a dream
..Right?
The hospital, the pills, the tests, the emptiness..
That was all just a dream, right?
Right??
It can’t be them.
They left me in here by myself in this room to die alone
They don’t exist anymore, right?

A hand gently touches my shoulder and I scream. I scream as loud as I can manage and attempt to move away from them.

"NO!! GO AWAY!! LEAVE ME ALONE!"
Another hand grabs my right arm.
I snap my head up and try to bite whatever it is that's trying to take me away from my room. 
My arms are restrained in the ugly white jacket, so I kick viciously at the unrelenting attackers, trying desperately to keep them away. They want to take me away from my reality- from my world. They want to drag me back under the drug induced comas into the twisted feverish dream of the hospital walls and the mental tests and the barred windows. I can’t let them take me back there. Kicking and screaming, I struggle against the painful grips of the shadows, trying desperately to escape, but I can’t. The vice-like grip on my arms just keeps tightening and tightening as they strain to keep their hold on me.Struggling with all the force I can muster, I fight and scream until I feel the unmistakable prick of a needle enter the back of my neck, and soon the world turns black.