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Grade
8

 

 

 

The Voices

 

   The guilt clawed at my heart, as the fine rain fell on the fallen body of Fred. He had done nothing wrong, and didn’t deserve to be beaten, but the voices in my head would not leave me alone until it was done. He was once a friend but now I know his secret, and he would not hesitate to poison me if it kept me quiet. On the ground were the several Jolly Ranchers that he had tried to assassinate me with, but a part of me wondered if he had been trying to be nice all along. “Thats foolish boy.” Whispered 87. “No, wonder your mother left you. Your a waste of space, a failure. They’re trying to deceive you by being nice.”  I slowly trudged home, as the rain turned into a full fledge storm. I could tell something was wrong with the rain. It was black like oil, then turned bright red. Red like the blood that ran from Fred’s nose moments earlier. “But he deserved it, he was planning to kill you.” Soothed 87 “ You should have finished him with your grandpa’s gun when you had the chance.”  I hate 87. I really do. I had a normal life two years ago, before he started whispering in my ear, but ignorance is bliss, and as much as I hate to admit it, he is right most of the time. As I near my depressing home, I spot Pez, the back cat, following me again. I learned years ago to ignore him, since no one else saw him. Glad that I had survived another day, I enter my house

 

   Cigarette butts littered the stained yellow rug, and countless beer bottles were scattered all over the room. I quickly lock the door and pull the shades. Pez was licking himself in the corner, and I could see my uncle collapsed in the kitchen, a bottle in his hand. “Your uncle’s like this because of you. He was happy until you made your mother go away. Its all your fault.” Sneered 23. “If you had been a better son, gotten better grades, and scored that buzzer beater, your mother wouldn’t have decided to go to a better place.” I ignore her like I have for two years, and also toss away all the mail that my father had brought inside. He might not know yet, but he’ll find out sooner or later that its all an attempt to brainwash us into believing we were ill. “Your a waste of space, a mistake and nothing more. Your such a mistake that no one would miss you if you jumped off Billums Bridge.” As 43 started another tantrum in my head, I slowly head upstairs to my lair. My room is clean as always, since it helps me look for bugs that the government might have installed while I was at school. Today however, my head hurts so much that I lay down on my bed and stare at the aged Detroit Piston’s poster, the one that my mother had bought me on my 12th birthday. “You know, you should jump off a bridge while you still have the chance. It looks like fun doesn’t it? Anyway no one would miss you anyways.”  As 23 finally calms down, I get my TV remote from my night stand and turn to channel 3. Channel 3 is my friend, one of the only true friends I have left. Unlike Fred, I could always trust Channel 3. “Today, an armed pro Russian man, entered the U.S. embassy and attacked the American Ambassador to Ukraine. This took place in kiev, Ukraine, early this morning. The suspect is a fi………. They know what you did! Its only a matter of time before they find you!” Screamed 65. “They’ll going to make you pay for your crimes!”

You know this is a perfect time to jump off a bridge. Do it before they find you!”  43 argued. No one will miss you.

They know what you did. You really blew it this time.” Said 65.

“Its all Fred’s fault you know. Don’t listen to them. They’ll not trying to help you like I am.” Whispered 87. “You got to make Fred pay for snitching on you!”  

“Don’t listen to him, just jump off the bridge and everything will be fine.” 43 yelled.

“Your a failure.” Jeered 91.

They continued to argue, and I felt like my head was being split open by a rusty wedge.

After about a horrific hour, it was clear 87 was the victor of the argument.

“It’s Fred’s fault they found out. You have to make him PAY!” Anger rushed into my body like a swarm of hungry locust. It erupted in my heart and spread to every inch of my body. But still, under all that anger, was a thin layer of guilt. I knew the anger was illogical, and that Fred had done nothing wrong, but neverless I was still angry. I remember the years we had been friends. We had always been on the same basketball team, hanging out together after school, and standing up for each other whenever there was trouble. He had always been my best friend, and for a mere second, I wondered if 87 was wrong. A small part of me, a part of me that wasn’t a number started talking right at that moment. “He’s your friend, Leo. You’re schizophrenic, you have to stop living in denial. Take the medication, it helps, it always does. You can lead a normal life and move on. Your mother was schizophrenic too, and she lived a normal life. She was just fine until she stopped taking her meds. She would be fine if she had taken the meds. Fred had nothing to do with your mother’s death.” I knew all this was true in the back of my mind, but the anger overwhelmed both the guilt and the voice a hundred to one. I tried to calm myself, but all the effort was in vain. I was angry, and honestly, I didn’t care if Fred was innocent. Someone had to pay, and it might as well be Fred.

 

   I woke up in my bed just before the dawn broke. It was essential that I wake up early on this historic day. “You're making history.” Said 87. “After you eliminate Fred, you can tell the world his secret. The secret he told you never to tell. You’ll be famous, and the world will remember your name for freeing the world from the evil that is Fred.”  Even through all of the chanting, I managed to to open the box of meds that were on my nightstand. They were all green and yellow, and did not stay still for a second. They swirled and popped, and looked utterly disgusting.  “It’s all in your mind.” Said the voice. “It’ll help you recover.

POISON!” Yelled 109. “THEY'RE TRYING TO POISON YOU! YOUR OWN MOTHER WAS KILLED AFTER SHE TOOK THOSE HORRID PILLS! I throw the pills at the wall and hurry downstairs. My uncle had left for work, and it wasn’t long before I opened the closet door with the safe in it. The code was my mother’s birthday, and I easily get my grandfather’s gun from inside the safe. Pez followed me out of the house, as I carefully left the house. I knew they were watching me. They always watch. I could hear police sirens in the distance, but I was smart enough to know this was all in my head. Those were the same sirens from when my mother hanged herself, about two years ago. I saw several hot air balloons in the sunny sky, but those were also mere illusions in my mind. They shook and swirled around, as if they were trying to mock me. They happily floated around in circles, amused by my misery. My mind was surprisingly clear, and I knew I was going to kill my best friend. The clouds danced and an audience of crows had gathered to observe to murder of Fred Howard committed by Leo Able. I hated myself, but the voice would not leave me alone till Fred Howard was six foot under. 87 now controlled my life. I saw Fed walking down the street, at exactly 6:50 in the mornin. I open fired on him, and all six bullets entered the body. I was two meters away.

   Nothing happened after I fired my shots, for at least the first minute or so. Maybe no one was watching me, but that didn’t matter any more. I could smell hot dogs cooking, and decided it was time for me to eat some breakfast. I turned the corner and walked up to a Burger King. I knew those hot dogs weren’t real. I walked into Burger king and tried to be friendly and waved to the cashier. Everything was in a haze, and I realized that the hand I waved was also the hand with the gun in it. The cashier screamed, and I realized that Fred’s blood was on my clothes. I staggered and fell down on a table, and noticed that there were tears in my eyes. I didn’t mean to kill him, and I knew deep that he loved and cared for me. I knew he was a true friend, but killing him was the only way I knew how to quiet the voices.  Five minutes later, I was in the back of a cop car riding to the city jail. Some people asked me if I regretted what I did. I sure did, but al least it shut the voices up……….

 

At least for the time being.   

 

 

Author’s Notes.

   Leo voices could have been quieted for good if he had taken the medication like he was suppose to. No one knows exactly what causes schizophrenia, but we do know that genetics play a role in it. Schizophrenia is harder to treat in adult or older patients, because they have the legal right to refuse medical help if they want to. As you can see, a person with schizophrenia often does not trusts others as easily, and beliefs that their medications are poisoned is common in the  schizophrenic community. Not taking the medications can lead to depression, as seen above. Schizophrenics also often believe others think they are stupid and unimportant. Schizophrenia is very real and results in people hallucinations, hearing things, distrusting others, hearing voices in their head, etc. However, schizophrenics can still live a good and happy life, and become helpful members of society if they take their given medications and receive support from their loved ones.

State
Michigan
Zip Code
48108