Trapped In Your Own Mind Novels & Stories

Her wolf tried to calm her down. Audrey watched her as she thought silently. He could hear the machines turning inside her head as she struggled to make a decision. She looked at the time- they had ten minutes left. She had a ten minutes window that she absolutely needed to grab if she was to have any hope of being free from him forever.

Ces don't know what to do. She's in a great panic because of an uncomfortable situation she's with now. She's inside a cubicle with a strange man who's now covering her mouth with his hands. It was so tight that she can't even let a breath out. She tried to escape from its hold, but the man just motion him to be quiet and be still. She rolled her eyes. Both of them were stunned when the doors started to open and close drastically.

My mind went completely blank for a second, buzzing like it had short‑circuited. I’d been tricked. This whole setup was tailor‑made to trap me.

“I worked sixteen-hour days during those five years in the middle of nowhere. My periods stopped for months at a time. My hair was falling out in handfuls. I endured all of it because I kept telling myself that I would finally marry you when I came back.” The color drained from his face. “As for you, in those same five years, you got married, had a child, and now, you’re expecting another.” I let out a laugh. “I’m sorry.” “What good is your apology?” I looked straight at him. “Dan, you’ve made it impossible even to hate you. You’ve made me feel like a fool.” The rain came down harder. He opened the umbrella and tried to angle it over me. I pushed his hand away and stepped into the downpour.

I dashed out of the room so quickly you’d think I was in a racing competition to win a fortune. I started running. I didn’t know where I was going, but my feet kept moving swiftly through the large cage hallways. I felt like I was losing my mind. Everything was just too much for me to fathom. I’m really just a girl. I may be twenty-six years old, but in truth, I’m still a scared six-year-old; confused, frightened, and alone even in a room full of people. Everything about my existence was built on trauma that haunted me, even in my sleep, over a decade later, with new trauma unlocking itself every second the clock ticked.

He chose to go straight home so his mother wouldn’t worry. He had placed the star tattoo on his shoulder blade as a reminder that he couldn’t see it himself. Just like his love—he held it in his heart, yet he couldn’t truly see it anymore, hidden beneath irritation and bitterness from the past. He tried to forget, yet he always carried it with him. His heart and mind were constantly at odds, and even now he didn’t know what he truly wanted. I keep trying to forget you, even hiding you deep within my heart. But why won’t you leave? Do you intend to keep tormenting me with the hollow love you once spoke of?

Saturdays should come with a universal pass for being a lazy couch potato, binge-watching N*****x and pretending school doesn’t exist. Instead, I was stuck in a never-ending loop of overthinking. My brain was running in circles, replaying every embarrassing moment that led me to this point. Seriously, if there was a way to file for mental bankruptcy, I’d be first in line. I could’ve been napping. Or, you know, pretending to be productive. But no, instead I was trapped in my head, circling like a vulture waiting for my next mistake. And honestly?

"From now on, you’re on your own." I feel trapped—physically, mentally, and emotionally. The weight of everything I’ve done presses against my chest, a constant reminder of who I have become and how far I have fallen. Not that I didn’t warn myself or even try to pull back when things became too risky. But now, it’s too late. The path I selected continues to shrink with no possibility of returning. I have descended beyond the threshold so there are no more consequences I can overlook.

But it didn’t matter. I’m trapped.

“You don’t have to follow me down here. I’ll only be a minute or two.” I wanted to scoff at her and say, “…like I’d let you go down there by yourself,” but my body and mind were suffering through some kind of disconnect. I could see and feel myself thrashing, fighting this invisible hold in an effort to regain control, but my body showed no outward sign of this struggle. I was trapped, confined within my own body. What the fuck was wrong with me?