these voices in my head - niall centric

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Prompt: can you do a zianourry, niall has schizophrenia and the boys dont know that hes had it since he was little and he starts to go crazy and they find out, angst and fluff please, thanks!!

warning: schizophrenia

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Its getting worse.

Before the X Factor, he could silently deal, ignore the voices and waste his days doing pointless nothings, distract himself. But now he has all the fame, all the activity, and the boys. The boys are great, of course, and Niall wouldn’t give them up for the world, but they worry a lot.

“You alright Nialler?”

No. Not at all.

“Yeah, just tired.”

And he isn’t lying. He is tired… just not exactly the type of tired sleeping could fix. He’s mentally tired, completely and utterly exhausted. Just doing basic things like talking and thinking are so hard when 50 people are talking at once.

Niall thinks that the voices in his mind are getting worse, especially the last few days, which sucks because they are really fucking annoying. They would go away for a while and Niall would start to gain a little confidence, a little more comfort being in the spotlight. He would almost be happy. Then they would come back full force and fill his head with notions and suggestions that weren’t his and didn’t match up with his personality.

They’ve been there since he was a kid, but then there used to be one or two every once in awhile, random thoughts or commands that he was usually able to ignore. But since the fame-the fame he didn’t even want in the first place-, they had gotten so much worse, and Niall is on the edge. No- hanging off the edge. About to fall, gripping on with one finger, hanging precariously by a thread.

It gets a little hard to handle sometimes.

“You’re horrible. Did you just eat that? Someones getting a little chubby…”

Kill them. All of them.”

“I love you Niall, i love you.”

“You don’t need to hurt them too much… just enough to cause pain. Hear them scream.”

“Just leave. They won’t miss you.”

“You don’t need them. You have us.”

Niall’s least favorite voice is the little girl. She comes in amongst the evil ones, high pitched tone standing out. She always mutters sweet little things, I love you, i love you, giggling and asking Niall to play with her. As sad as it sounds, she was Niall’s first friend. Back before he knew that it was weird to hear voices, Olivia (the name seemed fitting) used to talk to him, sing to him, tell him stories and play with him when nobody else would. It scared his parents, but he quickly learned to keep it to himself.

“I love you nialler…”

“Shut up, Oliva!” He mutters, falling back onto the couch and rubbing his temples.

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