Insomnia and Insanity with a hint of Paranoia
Talking that's all they ever do is talk, whispering things inside my head. I try to tell them, to tell others but they never listen, they never listen.
They whispered things into my mind, mean and hurtful things, things that would make an older man go insane. I went to my parents but they thought I was joking playing and would send me away without a second glance. The other children would laugh at me and that's how I ended up having no friends other than the voices in my head.
It was strange how they would ask me to do things, sick and vile things and I would always refuse. Until it became unbearable constantly repeating their selves only then would I obey. It was a strange relationship I had with the invisible personalities, sometimes they would take over on their own accord, like I was the puppet and they held the strings bending them to their own pleasure.
It began getting worst though, they constantly kept saying things about my parents like that I was a joke, waste of space, a whore or just a mutt who had no home, how they were disgusted with me to the point they couldn't even look at me. It got so bad that I couldn't take it anymore that I ended up murdering my parents in their sleep with an iron bar. I was just so angry and ever hit, every scream made me feel good, alive even.
The blood was the main part I enjoyed, the more I wacked the more the beautiful colour came out. It was so bloody their faces weren't even recognised anymore. The police were funny though, their mortified expressions as they saw me sitting in the middle of the room with a smile on my face like a usual Sunday morning was priceless.
After that they took me away and placed me in a small white room, for your own protection they would say but I think it was for theirs more than mine. A funny doctor would always come in time and time again asking the same question: Do you miss your parents. And I would always reply with the same answer "I should have burned them alive instead".
A few weeks later I was imported to a small facility in a town called Morganville. And it still had the same white walls and the same dressed up doctors the other had before it.
But before every night I close my eyes I always here their voices their names and sometimes even see their faces. Always whispering, always arguing with me. Sometimes I will even talk to myself, when I look at a mirror I always see a different face, a stranger where I'm espouse to be sitting.
My Name is Claire Danvers and this is my story