Hey guys! So, this is a little bit of a different kind of story. It's broken into parts, and each part is a different person. These are just a few short choppy stories about people who believe they are sane when they really aren't.
Almost every story will have something about voices that these people here. There are no things to let you know of gender, and hopefully that will give you more to imagine.
Comments & critiques are greatly appreciated <3
Enjoy!!
-Jay
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Part 1
.1.
Thoughts keep running through my mind. It's like I am never alone; crowded by my wandering ideas. I wish I could escape from them. I do not like what they tell me. But I can not leave. They will not go. They follow me wherever I am. They do not let me talk about it. They hold the words back; reining in my screams of help. So no one knows. No one sees how it is affecting me. I do not know how to fight these demons which plague my mind. Eating away at the thread of sanity I have left. I am scared to break. I am terrified. Now I know these voices keep me sane; because if I could speak, my life would crumble under me.
.2.
The voices are talking again. They are telling me to run; to not let anyone know what they have told me. "It is for the best," they whisper. Of course I believe them. But the words are consuming my mind. I see myself living, but I am not really there. I hear the stories about me. They say I am crazy. The voices whisper not to believe them. I give into the strings of so‑called truth they feed to me. Their words are law to me now. These are my sanity. I call to them when they get quiet. I do whatever they ask. It is all I can do for the Ones sustaining me. They have gone quiet. It is time to sleep for now. My head rests on my pillow as I stare at the ceiling; the humming in my mind replaces my only lifeline. I am sane. The mantra sings in my head like a melody and then I am asleep.
.3.
It is morning again and I am cleaning. Saturday is the day the voices talk to themselves. I listen to the murmurs inside me and cautiously dust the mantle above the fireplace. I must be careful where I clean. This house is a forbidden fortress to me. The people own it. Somehow the bills are paid. I have no job, they claimed I needed help. The voices argued that fact as I had sat in my room crying. A screech fills my ear as I unconsciously touch a door. I have never entered that room and I automatically turn away from it. I am in the kitchen now. We are running low on food. I must go to the store. "Later," the voices hum. "Okay," I agree.
.4.
Everyone is staring at me. The stories have gotten worse. I hear bits of the conversation before it stops as I walk by. What is mentally handicapped? Why do they say I am insane? My sanity is still here. It speaks to me constantly. At the moment it says to walk away; to just leave the store. But I must get the groceries. I am still only human. A little boy is approaching me. He wants to say something but his mother pulls him away before he can. He waves me a sad goodbye. The words all these people speak are getting to me. I argue with the voices. I drop my basket of foods and rush out of the store screaming. What have I become?
.5.
The police are surrounding my dangling body. They are glad it is finally over. The crazy person on East Street is gone. The stories will remain though. They will grow. They will speak of me as if I was a monster. But I am not. I never was. The voices tricked me. I came to realize I am useless now. My body was decaying, my mind was weak. I let myself believe all the lies I heard. I wish I could continue my story, but I have ended it abruptly. My life is over now. Never believe the voices....they will never be able to speak the truth.
