Trapped Inside Your Own Mind Novels & Stories

Then, the darkness claimed me. I wasn't dead. I was somewhere worse. I was trapped in the basement of my own mind. I could feel the weight of my eyelids, heavy as lead coins, refusing to move. I could hear the frantic, rhythmic thud of a heart that wasn't mine a powerful, steady drumbeat against my ear.

I feel cornered in ways I have never felt before, caged by invisible bars that close tighter every second. What the hell am I supposed to do with this? What am I supposed to think? I am trapped. Completely, utterly trapped. The only way out is to quit the program. But I cannot. I cannot even imagine it. To do that would not only undo everything I have fought for but burn it all down to ash. It would crush everything to the ground, leaving me with nothing but regret and the weight of wasted effort. So how the hell do I deal with this? Yup. My life just became officially, irrevocably messed up.

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.

If only I could dig into the floor, I would have done so and buried myself instead to save myself from the dire humiliation. What was wrong with you, Baby Girl? Why are you doing this to me? Oh my God, I wished I could hide somewhere and stay hidden for at least a month. What the hell was she thinking? Since when did I ever bring girls to my penthouse? She was the only one who ever had the chance to enter here. What a crazy thought that she had. Her mind must have gone haywire or something.

“The trauma is deep. Her mind is protecting itself by staying under.” No, I want to scream. I’m not protecting myself. I’m trapped. I push against the mud. I claw at the darkness. In my mind, my fingers are bleeding as I try to climb the slippery walls of this hole. I can hear the rustle of fabric. I can hear the soft hiss of a machine breathing for me. These are the sounds of safety, the sounds of a hospital, but in here, they sound like a taunt. “Stay with me, little mouse.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then he stepped closer. “I do not want your mind anywhere else tonight,” he said quietly. “I am here,” I replied softly. He studied me carefully. “No,” he said. “Not fully.” I frowned slightly. “What do you mean?” His hand lifted gently to my face, his thumb brushing my cheek. “You are still carrying them,” he said. “Eric. Margaret. Everything. They are still inside your head even when you are standing right in front of me.” I swallowed.

She would never trust me again. I sprang up and hurried over to our bedroom. I half expected the room to be deserted, but there she was, lying on the bed. I approached her and took a seat beside her. Her eyes were closed and her face was concealed beneath her arm. Her respiration was shallow, but her lungs continued to take in air. Her heartbeat thumped against the side of her neck, which I could see. "Syd," I struggled to find the right words. "I am sorry. I-," I was at a loss for words. How do I rationalise my fury and possessiveness?

The Hidden Threat Nyra’s POV I tried to speak. To warn her. But my mouth did not obey. My hands still raised toward the moonlight trembled once then went perfectly still. Not by my will but by something else that had crawled inside my skin and made itself at home. "No, no, no," I thought desperately. I threw myself against the invisible walls that had suddenly surrounded my mind. It was like being trapped in a glass box. I could see and hear everything, but I had no power to affect the world beyond.

KAI’S POV The harsh grip of sadness have wrapped its fingers around my heart like a suffocating vine, pulling me deeper into the depths of this madness that has held me captive for days now. I’ve become a prisoner within the confines of my room, a self-imposed exile from the world outside.

I used to be free. But now, I was trapped. Trapped by my own fears and anxieties, trapped by the weight of my own thoughts. I was scared to go outside, scared of what others might think of me. Scared of being judged, scared of being rejected. As I watched the other patients, I felt like I was stuck in a prison of my own making. I was a prisoner of my own mind, trapped by my own fears and doubts. I thought about all the things I used to enjoy, all the things I used to love. I used to love going for walks, love feeling the sun on my face and the wind in my hair. I used to love meeting new people, love making new friends.