Arthur was sure that he had lost his mind when he'd decided to become a writer. He wasn't necessarily a high maintenance person, but he liked nice things and expensive tea and the likelihood that he would make enough money to sustain his usual way of life was miniscule. If that hadn't been enough, he knew that he'd lost it when he started working at a local fast food restaurant to support his "career." The place was slimy and disgusting; he hated every moment of it, but a man had to do what a man had to do, and there was no way that Arthur could go without his tea or the view over the city from the balcony of his apartment, so if Arthur had to flip burgers he'd do it, even if his dignity suffered for it.
When Arthur first heard the voice in his head he nearly wasted a perfectly good cup of tea. In short, he was very much not impressed. To be honest he wasn't really surprised, with his life going to hell why not throw in some pained voice from whatever demented part of his mind had made the rest of his life choices. Misery loves company after all.
No, Arthur wasn't surprised, he was startled and pissed off. "It's about damn time!" He yelled and slammed his teacup on the table harshly. He stood and started to pace angrily. He opened his mouth to yell again but what he heard made him pause. Was the voice...laughing? "Oooh no. No. No. NO. I do not need this from you! You can just shut your mouth absolute GIT."
"Dude, sorry I just wasn't expecting you to be so-" but Arthur could still hear the giggles he was trying so hard to suppress
"So what?" He cut off sharply, "Blunt? Angry? Just what were you expecting? I'm sure you're always spot on when you make judgments about people aren't you? I bet you think making me a writer was a bloody brilliant idea to, didn't you?" After all if this was a piece of his mind it must have been the stupidest part because it certainly sounded like a moron, he had an american accent of all things, what part of his mind could've thought that that was a good idea?
"Dude, really? You're a writer? I hadn't expected that, but that's awesome, you should read something to me!" Arthur nearly face palmed.
"You're me, you blithering idiot, you already know all of my stories." He huffed angrily. For once he was thankful that he lived alone, otherwise someone would be sending him to some psychologist that he couldn't afford.
"Well if I'm you, then you just called yourself an idiot." The voice giggled childishly
"Just shut up already, I'm not talking to you anymore! My life is crazy enough as it is, so I don't need your help, thank you very much!"
The voice quieted and Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe that would be the end of it and he could go back to living his hellish life. He sat back down at his table at sipped at his tea. It had gone cold by now, and he pulled a face at the dulled taste.
"My name's Alfred by the way."
Arthur screeched and dropped his teacup. It shattered against the tiles of his kitchen and for a moment he just stared at it. "Get out of my head." He said flatly.
He waited twenty minutes to make sure the voice was gone and then got to work cleaning up the mess. It didn't take long, it wasn't as if it was the first teacup he'd ever broken after all, and when he was done he decided to write.
Arthur had been trying to get his novel published for over a year now, but apparently no one wanted to read a novel about faerie courts and froliking mythical creatures. "there's not enough action." they had said. "It just needs more excitement, something to keep the reader's attention." It was the same reply from publisher after publisher "Sorry, but it's just not for us." Arthur was beyond frustrated with them, but he'd finally admitted to himself that it just wasn't going to happen and that it was time to started on something else.
And that was how Arthur had ended up spending night after night staring at his blank computer screen and rewriting the same sentences over and over again, but never being satisfied with them. Tonight wasn't much different, except that Arthur couldn't think of anything worth while to even attempt to put to paper. It wasn't long before he was staring off into nothingness and thinking of the same, but his nothingness was interrupted by a noise. It sounded like someone was humming softly. Arthur stoically focused on the empty screen. If he was hearing Alfred again he was most definitely not going to say anything.
Despite what he told himself, Alfred scared him. Who wouldn't be scared if they started to hear voices that weren't really there? It sounded like some horribly written horror movie. Who knew, maybe Alfred would be giving him a black list next or telling him he needed to break someone out of jail. It wasn't healthy, and Arthur knew that he needed professional help. Hell would freeze over before he could afford such a thing though.
Arthur let his fingers trail over the keys of his laptop and puffed out a breath of air. He'd just have to deal with this mess himself, like he always did. "People aren't meant to be in cages." He stared at the words, and for a moment he didn't realize where they'd come from. He had to admit his interest was peaked. This didn't sound like the things that he wrote, this sounded more... raw, darker even. It reminded him of something one of his professors had once told him.
"As writer's you've all been told at some point or another to write what you know." she had started, "But to really captivate someone, you must write what frightens you." Arthur had hated the idea. The stories he wanted to write were stories that would comfort people, that would make them happy, not frighten them. He'd never taken the advice seriously before, but now that something frightening was staring him right in the face, he couldn't help but wonder. It was worth a shot wasn't it? He had nothing to lose at this point anyway.
"People aren't meant to be in cages." Maybe it was time that Arthur broke out of his.
