Here's my first MuffinClan challenge! Hope you enjoy!
ON THE INSIDE
I'm not normal.
Far from it, actually. I'm about as abnormal as it gets. An endless onslaught of catastrophes befall me left and right, ruining my life, the lives of others, and decreasing my depressingly low morale.
But no one ever seems to realize it's my fault.
No one but the voices, that is.
I don't know how far I've wandered in my endless search for peace. Voices pervade my mind: they are killing me from the inside out. I often wish I could eject them, but they live as long as I do. There is no escaping them.
They are in cahoots, I am sure. They needle me, give me incentive to do terrible things, bring me down, ruin me... I used to be happy, before the voices came. I had a life, I had a family... and in a flash, it was all gone. Only a remnant of my former life is left.
All because of the voices.
When I close my eyes at night, all I can see is my shattered dreams. One night, the voices came. I thought I had gone mad, but I said nothing. That was a mistake.
Two days later, I woke up covered in blood, my family slaughtered by some unknown being. I cried up to the heavens: who had done this? Who had killed my loved ones?
The voices only laughed, and did not elaborate. Those laughs planted the seeds of doubt in my heart.
What if... what if...
That's all that's left of me, shattered dreams and what ifs. The what could have beens far outstrip my actual past. Wondering and never knowing is what drove me truly mad. What drove me beyond repair.
I moved on. I left my former home, prudent enough to hide the evidence of the gruesome murders. I never let myself know for sure, but I feared, deep in my heart, that I had been the one to kill my family. That the voices had driven me to insanity far earlier than I suspected.
I found others to comfort me, others to love. But still the voices lurked in my mind, haunting me, reminding me of my past.
Inevitably, I would always wake up one morning and everyone around me would be dead.
Never again, the only part of my mind that still clung to my true self would whisper. But the deafening cackles of the voices would always drown it out.
I would dispose of the evidence, give no reason anyone would ever suspect me, then vanish into the night. Later, I would reappear far from the last 'accident', guilt-ridden but trying to put it behind me.
It never worked. The voices were always there to remind me, to mock me and leave me as a shell of my former self.
But no one else noticed how strange and odd I was. To them I was perfectly average, kind, if a little lost-seeming. No one knew how I was on the inside, broken and fractured and shattered beyond repair.
On the inside, I was mad. On the inside, I had no hope. On the inside, the voices ruled.
There was no hope for anyone who grew close to me. Blood, blood, blood... my past is stained scarlet with blood. Death befell anyone who the voices knew I loved.
I once thought my greatest fear was that I was the killer. But I know that is no longer true.
I know I am the killer. What terrifies me is that every time a murder occurs, I begin to remember bits and pieces... and what I remember scares me witless.
I enjoy it. I feel happy, at rest for once, while I kill those I love...
I don't know who the voices are any more. Are they someone else... or are they my true nature?
On the outside, I seem normal.
On the inside... I no longer know who I am.
NOTICE:
MuffinClan has changed since I wrote this. I am proud of this challenge and I'm not taking it down, but I would like you to know that I have left the forum and no longer affiliate myself with it.