Analysis of Escape

Over the years, I have acquired an escape. Something I know will bring me back to reality, where I can hide my face, covering it with a mask, shielding myself from cruel doubts and piercing uncertainties that echo and wander through the vast expanse of my mind. In this reality, I cry while bathing and almost every night I lay down with heavy, tired eyes, wishing only to wake up and discover that everything was just a terrible nightmare, and that I am still the innocent child who avoided the haunting corridors of the enormous house, afraid that the fearsome monsters, about whom horrifying stories were told, would catch me. But this is not a nightmare.