Voices *Critic*

Voices...

They are ringing all around me. Why won’t they let me be? That constant ringing… that constant whisper… I wish it would just go away! It’s Vivacious and numbing my brain; forcing it to become languid under its oppressive dominance. And those images! They flash through my nerves and send off intense electric signals to and fro. It comes to a surprise that my cranium has not imploded for sensory overload. It has driven me to the point where I feel like I am crazy, but I am not. I am not crazy. Everyone has voices in their head.

In my room I have secluded myself. Away from the world, away from the humming of extra voices bubbling and erupting in my ears. They are senseless and annoying. Why anyone wishes to surround themselves in the noise of people, machines, and media is beyond me. I am comfortable in this room. It is mine. I am alone – well, for the most part. This room is familiar and a small safety envelops me within its soft and warm cocoon. They tried to send me away. Tried to get rid of me but I will not go. This is my home.

But in the end these voices are comforting. I would be truly and utterly alone without them. Sometimes they scare me, but often times they tell me things about myself or those around me that I before hand couldn’t have conceived. They are my only friends. Even my parents don’t give a sympathetic ear. They would abandon me if they could. They have. To an asylum they tried to send me. I will not go. They hate me, but this is my sanctuary. I can’t leave it. It would leave me empty, broken, subdued. I can’t let that happen.

On my bed I sit. It is green. I like that color. It is calming and it soothes my nerves. The voices are muttering in my ears again. I flinch away and bring my hands up to my face to fend them off. It doesn’t help. I turn to face whoever it was that spoke and saw her. She talks to me most of the time. Her name is Anna. She really is my only friend. She says such sweet things to lift this haze of solitude and misunderstanding. Not even the medication that I take sends her away. In fact, it has only strengthened her presence. I don’t ever want to loose her. If I did I am sure I would shatter and crack like such a fragile vase imported from China and put up for display in a museum.

This medication… I hate it. I don’t take it. When I do my mind becomes nothing but mist. I can’t think or react. The voices are silent but I cannot remember myself. I would rather know who it is that I am and have these voices then have my mind dulled by its chemical combined toxins which was created in a lab by people who care not about the people who obtain these compounded pills. Anna told me so. She told me it would rob me of my senses and it does.
I only see Anna now. She sits beside me and I cannot help but smile. She returns it more than happily. She reached out with those perfectly structured hands and caresses my face. She is so warm and solid unlike everyone else that surrounds me. They are fake porcelain and stained glass. She is as crystal clear and truthful as a saint and that is what I believe she is. She helps me, protects me, and guides me. She is my personal guardian angel in this never ending maze of half truths and fake reality. She is the only thing real.

“I love you Anna,” I whisper to her and reach for her.

She gives me a shy smile and covers her mouth. She bows her head and looks away. “Thank you Cole. I love you more. You should take your medication Cole. Your parents will be happy if you do. You’ll be happy if you do,” she encouraged.

I shook my head and turned away. “I don’t like taking them.”

“You’ll feel better Cole. Take it.”

Like an obedient mutt I reach for my bottle of pills and pop the lid.

“Take more. It will help.”

Again I listen to her words and pop the cap once more. I take six more tablets and swallow it hard with the water on my stand. They burned and scared my throat but I dare not disobey her. She is my own light and who is it that I can
trust if I cannot even trust her? Partners listen to each other.

“Now go to sleep Cole. The voices will stop. I will sing for you.”
I close my eyes and my breath comes easy for a while. It slowly gets harder to breathe like a blanket had smothered me but her voice keeps me together. If I just listen to her voice I will be fine. I just need to listen to her. That’s all. I rub my throat and gasp for breath but I must focus on that beautiful tenor.
It is quiet now. I don’t hear a sound. Not a single whisper. It is a blissful sleep. Even she is silent but… I don’t mind. It is quite a last.

The voice stopped.

(This is not true. Someone asked if this was something I was dealing with and it is not. I am a happy person.)

Very interesting work, it was actually a good read.

I have a freind whose brother took medication (on a way minor note) but he always felt.. well like nothing. He was always bleh, nothing, when he took his medication.

Wouldn't mind reading anything else the next time you post.

Oh cool! Thanks! ^^ Medication sucks. I hate taking cold pills lol. This is actually one of my better pieces XP. Adopting a new style of writing.

Wow this is very interesting, quite a good read. I especially like what the ending makes you feel (which is hard to describe, kind of peaceful but full of thought).

She reached out with those perfectly structured hands and caresses my face. She is so warm and solid unlike everyone else that surrounds me. They are fake porcelain and stained glass. She is as crystal clear and truthful as a saint and that is what I believe she is.

I especially like this part. ^^
Keep it up, you've got it going.

-R.o.T.

haha. Glad you liked it. This is actually one of my favorite things I have written. Oddly enough, it was for a class XD. I actually put some thought into it, trying to make Cole seem like such an intellectual person who couldn't be crazy, but he was. Thanks for reading.

I really liked this. The way you used the words, the ellipsis, and descriptive language really stood out to me as thoughts from someone dealing with this.

The fourth paragraph is one that really stood out to me. It's like a slope on which he descends. And the character of Anna. To me, I see her as a sort of angel-of-death type, not that she is or anything. But Cole trusts her so much, and she tells him to take more pills, more, more. To make the voices stop. Very good.

As for critique? In the first paragraph, you use the word vivacious. Somehow I feel as if that word isn't exactly the right word to fit in there. I usually associate vivacious with outgoing-ness or stars, in the celebrity sense. Not numbing voices.

Other than that, there were a little bit of organizational mishaps, such as the starting a new line in the middle of a sentence - "Who is it I can trust"?

I'm not sure if you still come on here, but this was an excellent piece.