This is a first. This isn’t even fiction, really. Doing a prompt from Daily Post.
—
This is the place I can hide from the voices. Nobody comes into my room when they’re too busy shouting or simply arguing… not even if it’s about me.
I can hear them, but I’m safe. I’m always safe in my room.
The walls around me feel distant, yet at the same time close around me for a hug. But they also echo with the sounds outside.
Whenever I want to hide from someone, if I think I could be in trouble for doing something or not doing something, my room is my oasis. I can busy myself in here, distract my mind. I can read, write, look on the internet, look on my blog, facebook, twitter…
I can listen to music, I can sing. Imagine my characters, plot, think about them, figure things out. I can even think about me. About my own life.
It’s not perfect. But I know I can handle it, as long as I have my oasis.