She stood at the edge of the building looking at the ground 20 stories below her in admiration. The cold air prickles her skin causing it to flare with goosebumps and her cheeks grow pink. Her eyes water from the cold as she looks at the sky above her.
Her head has voices screaming at her to jump.
She took in her surroundings, the blue sky dancing with marshmallows in the air, honking of impatient cars below her. She narrows her eyes on a family walking a dog with some friends.
"Haha. Something you'll never have. You're crazy. Haha!"
She closes her eyes. She felt the cold slaps of wind blowing her long hair around her scarred skin. Her fingers grow into a numb sensation she's come to welcome. The heard the birds lullabies, the dogs barks, and the children's cries. Her mouth watered with saliva. The winter air was sweet to her nose.
The voices mock her, laughing at her. Telling her to jump.
Her eyes flung open at the sound of his voice. Him, the man she loves. The man who knows about the voices in her head, but doesn't mind. The man who was there with her through the constant tears and self harm. The man who always stuck by her, no matter what.
The man who treats you like you're the crazy person you are. Silly girl, he doesn't love you. He hates you, everyone does! Haha. Die, before I kill you.
She has schizophrenia, and he understands what the voices tell her. Do to her. He understands she's considered crazy, insane. How she is currently at the edge of her mental hospital.
You are crazy! You are insane! Haha, die. The words each in her head.
He said, "Allison, what are you doing?" His honey sweet voice that was usually void of judgment was overflowing in caution and concern. In that moment, when she heard his tone of voice, she knew everything the voices say was right. He had approached her like he would a crazy person, over cautious and unrealistic.
Told you, sweetie. Jump, die, you can fly! Haha, he doesn't love you. He thinks you're insane, he always has. Haha! The voices began overlapping one another.
She didn't talk to him, the man she loves, but instead looked to the sky. "God," she cried out, tears overflowing her Watergate's, "make me an angel so I can fly! Fly away, far away, from the demons inside of my head!" And she did as the voices commanded, and jumped.
In the last seconds she defied gravity, before her death was brought apon her, she thought one thing. Make me an angel.
The voices laughed. Silly girl, you can't fly. Angels aren't real.
YOU ARE READING
Ugly
Short StoryStories and notes about how it feels to hate yourself. Depression is real. Sometimes its not easy to move on with a real smile and laugh. You believed her when she said she was tired, but she was cutting her wrist. When she said she was fine, but cr...
