Chapter 5: Voices.
"Gone, Cast away in time, Evil yours, now evil mine, So I robbed you blind, The voices in my head suggest a less than peaceful side."~Avenged Sevenfold xD
The Next Day:
I sat at the breakfast table, everyone staring at me. I took a bite of my Captain Crunch and looked absentmindedly around the room. My brother and sister looked confused as to why they were staring, but they did it because my Mum did. I snickered a bit and continued to eat my cereal. At least I was going to dad's today, I thought. It was a friday and he got me and Brandyn all weekand, for that was the custody My Mum and him had agreed on. But then I remembered he would drink the weekand away. Though, I guess that was better than being stared at like a freak. As much as I hated to admit it, alcohol was a little better than staring. I'd some what gotten used to the smell and seeing the alcohol, but being stared at was something that would never stop being bad.
Even though I was stared at at school everyday for being a freak, I would never get used to it. As soon as I was done eating, I excused myself and went upstairs to grab things for my dad's weekand. While I packed, I mentally checked off everything I had gotten and everything I needed:
Pocket knife, check. I threw it in my pocket and went onto the next item.
Sunglasses, check. I put my Ray-Bans in the front pocket and went back to checking.
Notebook, check.
Ipod, I turned it on to see the battery, full. Check.
Change of Clothes. I ran frantically around the room, gathering a black t-shirt, skinny jeans, and my black Chuck Taylor's. Check.
Make-up bag, I grabbed it of the sink in my bathroom, Check.
Headphones, I shoved them into the bag with my Ipod, check.
Book to read, I grabbed Harry Potter: The Deathly Hallows and shoved it in my bag as well.
Drawing Notebook....
Where was that? I searched frantically around my room for it. Knocking over stacks of clothes as well as assorted books. Throwing piles of clothes, and tearing at the bedsheets to see underneath my bed. My drawing book was like a diary, it held all my secrets, though instead of words doing the talking the sketches did. I could not lose it. It held some of the only pictures I had of Lyla and I together. I would have put the pictures in a scrapbook, but I might lose that. I kept them in my drawing notebook because it was usually glued to my side. But I hadn't been able to touch it since the therapist appointment the day before. Tears pricked my eyes, my breath speeding up in fear that I would never find it. I ran around the house, hoping I might find it. When I was just about to give up, my mum walked in with a big black book in her hand. I stared in utter astonishment wondering how she had gotten it.
She shoved the book to my chest smiling as she did so, "Don't worry, I didn't look inside." I rummaged through the book as quickly as I could, looking for Lyla. I found all of them smiling, but looking through, I saw one was missing. "Mum," I said, rage slithering off my tongue, "Where is my other picture?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about." she said, lying through her teeth.
"Yes you do!"
"No, Now stop this rubbish."
As she turned to walk out I grabbed her arm. "Give. Me. The. Picture," I screamed, making her trun around. She slapped my cheek, opening a cut I'd gotten a couple days before. I stared at her in disbelief, holding my cut above my eye. Blood was slowly inching down into my eye and it stung. I bit my lip and ran after my mum who had walked down the hallway. I ran and slammed into her, pushing her into the wall. My knife at her throat I asked calmly, "Picture?" She shook her head, holding her tongue.
Kill her. You know you want to. A voice kept telling me.
I shook my head and began to lower my knife. She squirmed under me and I put it there again, warning her not to move.
Do it, it will only take one quick little slash.
NO! I told it, hoping it would go away. I put the knife up to my mum's mouth, warning her to talk. I stared into her eyes, fear seeming to drench them.
Do it.
I stopped myself from doing it, though I desperately wanted to. She finaly spoke, "My top desk drawer!" As I started to let go she spoke again, "Who is that emo ho anyways?" I slapped her cheek and ran to her office, blood still seeping into my eye. I wiped it out and grabbed the picture out of her desk, surprised she told the truth. I smiled and ran back to my room putting it in the drawingbook where it belonged.
You should have done it. The voices kept repeating. Voices? Shut the ruddy hell up. For a while they actually did, but after a while they came back again, trying to convince me of things. They would never go away.
