Merricat, said Connie, would you like a cup of tea?
Oh no, said Merricat, you'll poison me.
Merricat, said Connie, would you like to go to sleep?
Down in the boneyard ten feet deep!
I was pretending that I did not speak their language; on the moon we spoke a soft, liquid tongue, and sang in the starlight, looking down on the dead dried world; I was almost halfway past the fence.
"Merricat, Merricat!"
"Where's old Connie - home cooking dinner?"
"Would you like a cup of tea?"
It was strange to be inside myself, walking steadily and rigidly past the fence, putting my feet down strongly but without haste that they might have noticed, to be inside and know that they were looking at me; I was hiding very far inside but I could hear them and see them still from one corner of my eye. I wished they were all lying there dead on the ground.
"Down in the boneyard ten feet deep."
We Have Always Lived In The Castle
Shirley Jackson
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This is exactly it. Hiding inside yourself, walking rigidly, feeling cold, hiding well deep inside yourself that your body is just a machine and your soul takes cover in the smallest room inside your body, and yet you still hear, you still see, you still feel angry and scared.