Their first meeting is inconsequential and easily forgotten, but that is what it makes it so very striking.
She burrows further into the voices, but he pulls her out. A shadow, toeing her frozen body, a sneer lining his face.
No hands. Not one touch.
For that, she doesn't scream. That, and the voices in her head, sensing the likeness between her and him. (Yes, they are alike, too alike for comfort, but alike nonetheless.)
Don't kill him. He will hurt you if you do.
Just like him.
And maybe that's it.
Maybe the reason she decides to wake up is because of his pretentiousness in refusing to dirty his hands, but the reason she decides to stay awake is because of his pretentiousness in acknowledging the dirtiness of his hands.
Reveling in them.
YOU ARE READING
These Voices In My Head
Short Story"A sane person to an insane society must appear insane." -Kurt Vonnegut "i can't find my way out" In which a girl with schizophrenia finds herself locked in an asylum. "the silence haunts me" Her only sanctuary is the scarlet garden that spreads bey...
