Hey guys! So I know I should be working on the next chapter of Silent Sorrows, but this idea popped into my head and I just had to write it, so deal with it. I hope you guys like it.
I no own. Flames will be used to burn the prosecutors of witches.
Max's POV:
The pain was unimaginable. I couldn't stand to live another day dealing with this pain, with this depression. I had been seeing the people in the shadows for 3 years now and they won't go away. They won't stop whispering into my mind their sick fantasies of the torture I am to inflict upon others. I haven't hurt anybody yet, that anyone's heard of at least. There was a time when it first started that I gave in to their sick whispers and I attacked people. Only two of them. I beat them and then ran away- terrified of what I had done. I don't know what happened to those two innocents, but I do know that I punished myself for what I had done. Not a single day has gone by in these three years that I have not inflicted a single wound upon m now imperfect skin.
My imperfections ranged from lines on my wrist to words on my torso. I was sick—and I hated myself for it. There wasn't a moment that I didn't clutch my head in agony. The doctors had given me medicine and forced me to see psychologists, but nothing made the Shadows go away.
My parents had kicked me out as soon as I had gotten diagnosed with my disease. Now I lived with my aunt, whom I am surprised hasn't kicked me out—her husband certainly wanted to; they thought I was a danger to their children- my cousins. I wouldn't admit this, but I think I'm a danger to them too. It was only a matter of time until I broke completely and hurt someone besides myself. I didn't want to hurt anybody, but the Shadows did. I was nearly under their complete control. Luckily, I had a sliver of willpower left within me to fight off their rotten deeds.
At this point in my existence I was ready to think for myself, but that would never be possible due to the Shadows. They controlled my every thought. Every waking moment was consumed by their dark desires bouncing around in my skull, making me want to scream from the constant exploding pain that evil thoughts brought.
Contrary to what might be thought, the best place to be was in the complete darkness. That is where I tended to stay. Because you can't see Shadows where there is no light.
My days were spent in solitary confinement with curtains closed and all the lights extinguished. That is where I was safest, in the comfort of my room. This, of course, didn't stop the Shadows from whispering to me, but at least I couldn't see them.
Once a week I was forced to see a therapist in order to "find the root cause of this late on-set disease". Her words- not mine. Personally, I knew what the cause of the Shadows was, I was crazy. Plain and simple. Crazy people hear voices and see Shadows. Therefore, that is what I am. I had come to terms with that fact 3 years ago when the Schizophrenia first set it. The doctors said it was very rare for someone my age to have it, that usually it occurred mid-life. I told them I just went above and beyond what was expected. Back then, I hadn't lost my personality yet. I hadn't lost all my friends yet. I hadn't lost all of my sanity yet.
I pushed everyone away because I didn't want to hurt them, and therefore myself in the process. I was a danger to them, to society, to myself. I honestly don't know why I never considered this before, but oh well—I'm doing it now.
I spent the day walking around with the Shadows following me. I went to the ice cream parlor and got a double scoop of mint chocolate chip. I saw a new movie that had just come out. I bought myself a new charm for my charm bracelet. I got my make up done MAC. I visited the aquarium. I went to the zoo just to watch the birds fly around their habitat. I got my hair cut. I went to the store and bought myself a black velvet dress and suede heels to match. I changed in the store bathrooms and threw my previous clothes away, but kept all my jewelry. I wrote my old best friends letters, and apologized for the way I went about things. I called my parents and told them that I loved them even if they didn't love me. I wrote a note for my aunt, thanking her for her generous hospitality. I wrote my final letter explaining all of the day's actions and told everyone where I'd be. I signed it with the drawing of a beautiful bird flapping its wings. I walked all the way out to the edge of town where there lay a set of unused train tracks. I laid my body down on the rails and held up a pocketknife that was clutched in my hand. I slit both wrists deeply and then lay still waiting for numbness to overcome my senses—it didn't take long.
My name is Maximum Jane Ride.
I am 18 years old.
I was diagnosed with schizophrenia at the ripe age of 15.
Shadows tortured me for three years with awful images of death and destruction.
Today on July 14, 2015, I killed myself after doing all of my favorite things.
I embraced the darkness that had attempted to consume me for so long.
I left no one behind.
When they found my body, it no longer held my blood nor my soul.
The Shadows went away though.
At my funeral, my old best friends cried over my corpse.
They buried me in what I died in.
My name is Maximum Jane Ride, and I finally made the Shadows go away.
Okie! That was it! I hope you guys enjoyed it. Please let me know what you thought in a review, I would appreciate any feedback you may have.
If you are following my other story, Silent Sorrows, I promise that I will update it by the end of this week!
Have an excellent day!
~MissunderstoodPoet~