Smoke. I watch the flames entrap the place that I once lived. That I grew up at.

I remember how this happened? Or do I?

I stare, my hands gripping onto the metal of the umbrella. Sweat covers them, and ash falls down from the sky. Landing on me, and showering the ground like a snow storm. Dying the grass, the sway I see. Don’t be fooled by my descriptions. They say that pointing out everything you can see can be a coping skill right? It’s about staying in the present moment. Or regrounding.

I know soon enough I won’t be alone. It won’t just be me, the ash, and the unbelievable ruins in front of me clouding the air.

How do I explain to them?

I didn’t do this! I swear it wasn’t me, I don’t know how this happened. Though, they won’t believe me. I saw my hands move through the motions but I don’t understand how.

I swear I wasn’t in control.

I can only watch, living in a shadow of myself. Almost like I am possessed sometimes. I used to think it was a nice escape from life. One that took me away from all the aspects I used to hate so much about everything.

But now. My feet are frozen to the ground. They won’t move as if quicksand is wieghing, pulling them down into the earth. Though, it’s not happening. I can’t see it happening even if I wish it would. Ahead I see. But yet, even though I know my fate is destined if they catch me. A cell. Chains that will forever hold me down, I don’t run. The sirens ring through my ears. The shouts. And next thing I know there grabbing my arms, pulling me away.

….

Wait…

Did I lose control again?