Part 3 VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED
And it was her scream
that bares the fruit of this story that I tell.
My name is Rhonda Barnes
My name is Rhonda Barnes and I hope you know,
My name is Rhonda Barnes and I hope you know, I may not be doing very well.
It was my doctors tight grip
It was my doctors tight grip that made me kick,
It was my doctors tight grip that made me kick, and push
It was my doctors tight grip that made me kick, and push and fight.
As there were many people around me though none were in my sight.
As I stayed to the ground and I fought my very best.
Though who I was fighting
Though who I was fighting was the answer to this test.
My sanity left me about two years ago.
When my best friend
When my best friend left me
When my best friend left me from a window
When my best friend left me from a window that I know.
That cold breeze blew so hard and I thought my mind was fine.
It took until now that I realized maybe I wasn’t right.
And I didn’t like those pills since it made me so uptight.
And I couldn’t hear my mother’s voice
And I couldn’t hear my mother’s voice over my shouts in that small class.
It was like my mind shattered into small fragments of stained glass.
And every shard was broken, unable to be repaired.
That’s why I never said anything, I thought no one really cared.
Until the doctor pulled me from under the desk and I ran from his grip.
I ran towards a window and placed my foot upon it’s lip.
Until that woman screamed
and I finally saw her familiar face.
She kind of looked like my mom but I then, soon felt my mother’s embrace.
As she then held me in my worst moment, the doctor looked at me with concern.
I saw the worried look in her eyes which made my heart ache and burn.
And I remember my mother crying, thanking God I stayed alive.
I can remember her soft words that stuck with me while I slept during the drive.
When she took me home with some new medication, hoping I stay on them this time.
She told me I need to stay on them and taking care of myself isn’t a crime.
As every time I swayed, the terrors came back and so did stress.
The stress gave me flashbacks and I knew, more or less.
But it was these outbursts that showed me who I needed to be.
But I can never really know who that woman is,
But I can never really know who that woman is, or if she was me.