A very short little story about an idea I had the other day: What if as Constance matured, her special abilites became so out of control, that it eventually drove her mad? Note, I had a heachache while writing most of this; it probably shows...
By the way, character ages: Constance: 7, Reynie/Sticky: 16, Kate: 17.
Recommended playlist: Seashells~ Sia, Butterflies~Sia, and Anthems for a Seventeen-Year-Old Girl~Broken Social Scene
Disclaimer: I do NOT, in any way, own the Mysterious Benedict Society.
It was just too much.
She knew too much, and it was taking a toll on her.
Every moment of every day, every second of every hour, every minute her mind was bombarded with the thoughts of everyone around her. She could hear everything. Everything! Whether it was somebody she'd known for years, or a stranger crossing her path on the street, Constance could hear every thought it their head. She would also feel whatever it was they were feeling. Happy, sad, angry, hurt, excited, anxious. No matter who it was, what they were thinking, when they were thinking it, or where, Constance knew every detail.
When Sticky was worrying about one of the many things Sticky often worried about, Constance was worrying right alongside him. When Rhonda fretted over the children's education, Constance found herself fretting also. If Reynie was ecstatic, but Kate was heartbroken, Constance felt very confused. She could no longer distinguish her own feelings apart from those of everyone around her.
To make matters worse, half of what she heard she couldn't even understand. The adults were always thinking about scientific what-nots, working on machines, or studying a thick textbook, and half the time in a different language! Also her friends were maturing, and they were thinking new things. Grown-up things. Things Constance didn't understand. Things Constance would rather not understand.
When she was younger, she could control her powers. She could buffer between the thoughts she did and didn't want to know. Though as time drew on, her control lessened. Her special abilities become too strong to bear, overpowering, even. And now she heard it all.
'E for B and O for Z and H for T? Blast it, this new code is utter nonsense! It doesn't follow any specific patterns at all!'
'Should I call? Oh, why hasn't she called? She must think I'm wierd, or a freak. That's it, she thinks I'm a freak! Oh, I knew I should've grown my hair out! It's been days! She told me she would call! Maybe she just lost my number, and that's why she hasn't called. Maybe I should call! But what if she doesn't answer? Or worse, what if she does?'
'Where has Constance run off to? She'll be late for her lessons, again. Poor girl, she's been behaving so strangely lately. I should really talk to her, to see what's the matter. It seems like ages we've had a nice conversation. Oh, where did I leave those papers? Lessons are bound to start any moment...'
'Seven letter word for 'Unsteadily'? These crossword puzzles are really too simple...'
'ஆஹ், இஸ்ன்'ட் ஹெ அ ப்ரிக்ஹ்ட் யொஉன்க் பொய்? ஈ'ட் ஸய் ஹெ இஸ்... ஃஎ'ஸ் முச் ப்ரிக்ஹ்டெர் தென் மொஸ்ட் யொஉன்க் மென் ஹிஸ் அகெ னொவடய்ஸ். ஈ வொன்டெர் இஃப் மொதெர் ஹஸ் டகென் ஹெர் மெடிகடிஒன் ஃபொர் டொடய்...'
'Has this shirt always made me look so boxy?'
'Fiddlesticks! The cakes have burnt! I suppose it's my fault, for leaving them unattended...'
'Oh, my back is killing me! I really out to get that prescription filled, but money has been so scarce...'
'Where did I place that textbook of Quantum Physics? Sticky would know... Perhaps I should ask him. My, I really must water that poor plant..." ***
STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT!
It was killing her, the endless noise, the endless chatter. It was tearing her apart, piece by piece. All she wanted was to escape the pain, the headache. She had clawed her skin until her fingernails were broken and her flesh was red and bleeding. She had ripped large clumps of her hair out, leaving glaring bald spots scattered across her scalp. She would do anything to feel something of her own, to just escape from the minds of those around her. She had screamed, cried, thrashed, pounded her fists against the wall. She was willing to do anything to escape the noise, the sound, the voices, the living nightmare that had become her own mind.
Buzzing. Ticking. Screeching. Crying. Laughing. Shouting. Cursing. Dying. Pounding. Pouding. Pounding.
She had stopped eating, for she had entirely lost her appitite. She had stopped speaking, for she couldn't stand to listen to an additional voice. Her friends and family were concerned for her health, and Constance was aware of this. She heard their pitying thoughts. 'Poor Constance, what's gotten into the girl?' 'Poor Constance, something is terribly wrong,' 'Poor Constance, we must do something for her!'
Bang. Giggle. Sigh. Gasp. Glimmer. Sinking. Ringing. Singing. Wishing. Wanting. Losing. Slipping. Falling.
They attempted to help her, to make her eat, to make her talk again. But Constance was in no state to accept help. She didn't want help, the only thing she wanted was for the voices to stop.
But they couldn't stop.
They would never stop.
People never stopped thinking. A mind always ticked on, without rest. Even in the dead of night, when all was quiet and the world should've been calm, people still dreamed. People still awoke in the middle of the night. People stayed up, to work late, their brains buzzing until the early hours of morning.
Their was no refuge, and nowhere to hide. Life had become one long, never ending headache. No relief from the pain, no dawn, just one endless night of hardship. And what terrified her the most, was to think that this was only the beginning.
Well that was... Dismal.
*** A free internet pie will be awkwarded to the first person to correctly match the thought to who was thinking it. On your mark, get set, go! Note: When diciphering the thoughts, keep in mind Sticky/Kate/Reynie's current age, and what people of that current age tend the think about.