The And Of The Voices

818 Words4 Pages
I sit down on the brown fluffed up couch and stare straight into the optics of my shrink, Frank, thinking “how did I come here?” Not realizing I was saying it out loud. My shrink responds with “how about you start from the beginning?”, And that is exactly what I did. To be honest, I didn’t know where to start, should I start with the voices in my head or the imaginary people or being inches away from killing my best friend and my sister; nonetheless, no option sounded good, so I started as far back as I could remember. For as long as I could remember I have constantly had these voices in my head: some are beneficial, some are bad and some are plain evil. Ace of the voices has become something more, something real; for the sake of this…show more content…
Ever since I was 13 I have been travelling to various psychologists and other professionals, with promises that they would avail. Each of them either abandoned my place due to it being unacceptable for them to serve. Life has become in some senses more fragile to me. After killing someone for the first time I realize life is like a solid bunch of weak strings, and all it needs is a short slice to go them. Letting go of all of the strings at once is not a battle, only an act of ease and delight in seeing them break up like a broken little puppet. X does not use a heavy weapon; he does not employ any weapon besides a knife, only what he does use is fear. X intentionally creates a sensation of fear so immense that by the time he is eaten up with them, they were already begging to be shot down. He manages not just torture people. He changes them; they are no longer people, but shells of what they were. They are gone and defeated, and they simply want to be freed from the struggle known as X. Although living with the X is a constant fight, he has been my savior at times. Every pain I had ever carried released through his activities, merely without the onus of knowing just what actions relieved me of the annoyance. Every tear into a blade, and every insecurity into a field. There are times part of me regrets the actions of the human race in my mind, but how can these feelings linger when I
Open Document