Even I hope it gets better… :P But angst is angst and this story is pure tragedy so I need to get my game face on and do this.

Ted: Tragedy? Am I going to die?!

Maybe...

Ted: A normal author won't be so cruel.

Chapter 25
Vengeful Voices

The voices are louder than ever before
January, 2, 2009
and I breathe

I can't shut them out. I can't listen to anyone but the voices inside of my head. I'm constantly reminded of the same thing all the time and it hurts to listen because it hurts to know that it's the truth. You. Are. In. Love. With. A. Boy. It's like my father's voice from ten years back when I had told him I'm gay and he shouts at me and pretends that it's the weirdest thing ever and I know that it's horrible. I've gone out most of the time, not saying a word when anyone tries to make a move on me, don't scream, don't say a word even as man stuff their hands in places that they shouldn't, because after all, why should I care? You don't care because you can't. The voices are so loud. I can't shut them out. I'm swallowed inside of them. I'm drowning in them and I can't get out no matter how much I want to.

Going to the doctors, they give me three types of medication for my anorexia because the voices are apparently spiraling from that. I don't tell Randy or Cody or anyone about this. Not like you talk anyways. I slip down onto a bench on a hot morning and take one of each pills, washing it down with a much needed bottle of water for a sore throat and later on, on a cold night, I walk back towards the bench, drinking water and watching people's lives go by while I'm stuck in the same position in life and will be for a long time and letting my tongue glide against my teeth, looking up at the black sky, I see my scattered dreams all so far away from my reach, mocking me and the voices are mocking me, too. You're pathetic. Can't you do anything half right? I can't. I try to shuffle them out but they're so strong and so loud and I can't hear anything else but them.

Let's focus on my medicine.

Olanzapine.

This is the same thing they use on schizophrenics. I'm so happy knowing that I'm so close to being insane and breaking. I'm crying so much from the joy. My sarcasm sucks and I have nothing to do but stare down at my medicine and read the side effects. Some I have had in the last few hours. The coldness that's barreling through me, the dizziness and insomnia, it's all because I take a pill. Oh joy. I'm so lucky to feel pain…when will it all stop? When will I be happy? I don't know. That's why they take pills, right? To solve me? To cure me? That's why, right? I can't figure out another reason why. But I'm still the same. Except dizzier and colder and completely unable to sleep. Why does everything that's supposed to fix me just breaks me down all the more?

Quetiapine.

Another drug they give to schizophrenics. The mental ward and I have so much in common with each other. The dizziness is just doubled by a headache. Oh, I should be so lucky.

Risperidone.

Another schizophrenic-related drug? Why am not surprised? All I have because of this is low blood pressure…yes, I know…yes, they gave me a band…yes, I'm currently in the hospital again thanks to my medication.

Can't I get a break?

Randy and Cody visit with sorrowful faces as always. I've truly ruined their lives. Every time I try to get out of their lives, I somehow find my way back in and I don't want that to happen anymore. Cody sits beside me while Randy slips beside me towards my bed covers and asks me for what's wrong while the doctor explains and I slip under the covers and pretend I don't exist anymore because my own medication had gotten me into this mess and—isn't there anything that can cure me? I don't want to be sick anymore. But now, even when I'm trying to fix my own mess, I'm making it worse.

I give up.

I can't do anything right.

I can't get sick right.

I can't get healthy right.

Maybe I should just give up…

Oh, joy. My low self esteem is just so saddening, isn't it? I'm even crying. I can't do anything right now. I snuggle into Randy's chest and pretend that it doesn't matter but it does and again, no words out of my lips which makes Randy do all the talking. "We'll get through this, I promise, Teddy, I can't bare this happening anymore."

I stare up into his eyes but I can't find any promise.

When Cody brings us some food, Randy doesn't even bother shoving them down my throat anymore. He's afraid that it'll make me do crazy things and I find myself picking at Randy's plate and eating off, which makes Randy shocked. Completely and utterly shocked but in a good way, he's the happiest that I've ever seen in a while and it makes me happy knowing that I can make him happy. Even if the voices are screaming and exploding my brains out. I want to make him happy. I want to be happy. I just don't believe that anything can make me happy anymore.

He runs his hand down my back and kisses me chastely. "I love you, Ted. And I don't want you to hurt yourself anymore."

You.

Should.

Never.

Love.

Me.

Because I'll just break his heart when I die. There's just nothing left for me anymore. Nothing there to live for. Nothing ever again. I can't cure myself. I always end up breaking myself and Randy always steps into my pain and I don't want to hurt him again. If I die…if I die, he'll be sad but he'll move on, won't he?

He'll move on…

Um—review??

;) Sam