"I don't understand. Why won't you listen?" he manages to whisper between sobs and clattering teeth as he draws his knees in closer to his chest for warmth. "It doesn't work. It doesn't help. Why won't you listen." he cries as his weary head falls on top of his knees in submission.
The familiar omnipresent voice booms from nowhere and everywhere all at once "It has worked before and it will work for you. You must believe what we say, do what we ask and the cold will subside."
He watches. Stuck in his cage. Able to see out but none can see in. No one can see him shiver against the unrelenting cold that chills him to his core. He sees them pass by. Envious of their smiles, their joy, their warmth. "Why can't I be warm?" he mutters to the passersby knowing they can neither see nor hear him. He rests his head in the corner, his only means of warmth, wanting to sleep for a brief respite from the cold. As he begins to doze, he's reminded that the dreams, the horrible movie like images that flutter through his mind are just as painful as the cold, or the "blue pain" he has named his bitter enemy. Not wanting to subject himself to the horrible nightmares that seem as real as the blue pain, he begins to scratch at his skin. Slowly raking his dagger like nails through his flesh, revelling in the pain that is red and not blue.
"You must not do that!" commands the voice. "It is not normal and is greatly frowned upon. You must stay in the corner and the warmth will come. You must trust in us. It has worked before and it will work for you.".
"But it's been so long" he shouts in frustration. "I've done as you've asked. I've sat in the corner. For ten years I've sat in the corner, wanting, waiting for the warmth to wash over me. Wanting to be like the others I see smiling and warm.". His anger starting to take him, he unknowingly clenches his fists at his side. He can feel the surge of hatred for the voice beginning to build. "It's not working. There has to be another way!" he screams at the voice.
"Do you want to be with your family?" the voice asks. "Do you think we can allow you to be with your family if you express such anger toward us?" the voice asks menacingly. "We will keep you here as long as we must. We will keep you here until you say what we need to hear. You must simply say it, but we must believe!" the voice states stearnly.
He's reminded again of the the blue pain as the surge of anger begins to wash away. "But it doesn't help!" he cries out at a loss of what to do. "I've sat in the corner for ten years, constantly feeling the sting of the cold. You say it should help, but it just doesn't work!" he exclaims as he falls to the floor in a heap sobbing uncontrollably. He pulls himself to the corner mumbling over and over "It just doesn't work...". He rests his back in the corner and pulls his knees to his chest wrapping his arms around his legs and begins to rock back and forth. "I don't understand. It doesn't work. Why won't you listen to me? There has to be another way. Why won't you listen to me?".
"It has worked before. It will work for you. You must believe what we say. Do what we ask and the cold will subside. If you doubt what we say, here is your proof. You are plagued by the cold,by sorrow and by pain. The cold is the cause and the cure is in the corner. For surely, all corners are 90 degrees.".
Husband not being “there” for me
My fiance left me because of my depression
The alchemy of being 
