The Voices

Point of view from a teenage girl going through depression and anxiety. read the story and feel the exact things shes feeling and watch as her life goes down hill.

Grace

Mrs. Mercado

Creative writing

11, December, 2016

The Voices.

I close my eyes, trying my best to ignore the voice in my head. I cover my ears as if they would help drown the voices.  I don’t think the voice is ever going to stop, I hate myself for it. Sometimes my hands shake and my head just swirls around with unexpected emotions that I can't seem to explain. Even though i can not explain them i allow them to break my walls over and over. I walk through the school hallways, surrounded by all the people but I feel so alone.

I am only 16, everything is going downhill. My anxiety grows bigger. The voice in my head gets worse and worse. They don’t like you. You have no friends. You are alone. I am just on a purge. I stop eating. Start fighting with my parents, and running away from my problems. My past. I am trying not to let my past affect my future.  The doctor told me I would end up forgetting. Let it all fade.

I fall asleep, on my bed. Hoping it’d all just go away. That none of this was real. That the voice is just a decoy. That’s when it started. My head flushed back to the memories I never seemed to forget. The force of my father's hand left bruises to my body, and my heart. I didn’t understand what I did wrong. He did it when he took his drugs and drank his alcohol to feel completely numb of his pain.

I wake up sweating, and crying. But yet i am pleased that I am away from it all. I hate waking up. Sleep helps me escape from reality. I look back at the scars on my skin. I get out of bed, and fight my little sister for the bathroom. I flush the water upon my face over and over. It doesn’t change anything. The scars are still there, and I am still me. Not that I really intended to change anything. I walk to school with my brother and sister just like any normal day. I fake my smile at the people who tended to say hi to me. My best friend is the only one who knew how I was. About the voice and how sometimes I just had to get away. Sometimes I just want to disappear. Sitting in these classrooms and the only way I can get through a day with with music blaring through my eardrums. It seemed to be the only escape from the voice.

The day went on. I wait for my little sister, and her daily gossip that she seemed to talk about. I like spend most of my time at home doodling. About what i am feeling. But I don’t know what I feel. It's like everything is just stuck there if it wasn’t one feeling it was another. My sister comes into our room “Everything alright?” “yeah, I’m fine”.  She runs back down to watch movies with my mom. When I say I’m fine it doesn’t mean I’m actually fine. But I’m afraid if she would of asked what was wrong, I would of cried. I hate crying. I hated the feeling of being sad.

I got into the shower. I let the hot water roll down my back. This is the time when it's so peaceful that I start to think about how pathetic my life is. At this moment I don’t care. I don’t like to care. I’m getting out of the shower and i look in the mirror. I don’t know why I bother to look at myself, I never seem to be satisfied with what I look like. You’re so ugly. The voice finds its way to get to me every time. I have this emptiness inside me where everything always seems so foggy and unclear. I can't ask myself why, not sure I can ask anybody else why. What ever answer I seem to find, doesn’t seem like the right one to make it all go away.

I grab the blade once again from the cupboard. Slowly sliding it across my wrist. Watching the blood drain from my body. Feeling so lifeless. Few moments later, I come back to reality and wipe off the blood. Put my pjs on, ate some dinner my mother left on the counter. Then I rush to bed. I try to hide what I felt, I hide my cuts so my mom didn’t get worried. I don’t want to be unnoticed anymore. I want someone to tell me it’ll all be okay. My best friend isn’t even my friend anymore. She told me I was too negative to have in her life. I shake the memories trying to understand myself. I can't wrap my head around how I honestly treated her. Which makes me feel even worse than what I should. Makes me feel like nobody wants me.

I dream of him again. Except this time instead of him I was in his place. I was the one who took the drugs to get rid of my pain. But this time I was the one yelling. I tried to wake up, but it's almost like it's telling me something. The voice just needs to go away, I’m afraid of all the voices. They scream, they make me feel like I don’t want be alive anymore. I’m tired of fighting it. I wake up. I rub my eyes, sit there for a moment then I go to the bathroom.  I am looking in the mirror once again and tears fall down my cheeks. I brush my hair, my teeth and get ready for school. Today will be different. I know and hope so. I said to myself in the mirror. I walk downstairs to head for the door.

My mom yells “I love you” before we walk out the door. ”I love you to!” we all say at the same time. I feel like smiling today. I feel a little happier today. We arrived at school and I actually social a little more. It's like my dream made me feel like I’m not like my father. I am somebody, and i shouldn’t feel alone. I don’t have to let my depression eat me alive. For the first time in months, the voice started to fade. The scars on my wrist didn’t seem to matter to me. I never did it for attention. I did it because there was so much pain inside that I just couldn’t feel it anymore. I hear someone’s voice down the hall. My heart stopped. Like my soul was about ready to jump out of my body. I rub the goosebumps on my arm and turn around. “You’re so ugly I don’t know why you even try for school.” The girl was laughing. My heart sank, so deep that i’m not sure it’s possible to bring it back up. She doesn't know how much it actually hurts.

It's almost like it hit me harder then what I should of. It weighed me down, like a heavy weight on my shoulders. I try not to cry. But my smile started to fade, the voice came back taunting my head. It hurts more then any burn or any cut. I skip lunch to go listen to my music in the library. It was an early out so I walk home and opened the cupboard to grab it again. They say if you cut up, the doctors wont be able to fix it. One cut… maybe two. My blood drips more than usual. It drains from my body till i can’t feel the pain anymore, i can’t even hear the voice either. I fall to the floor.  

Silly little girl

Don’t fool yourself

They’ve seen your scars

Just don’t want to help

Little do they know

How much could change

With three little words.

“Are you okay?”

Author's Note

Feel free to comment any opinion. i wrote this for a creative writing class and received an A.

Reviews

[Jacob Clifford]

Before I start the review, I just want to say how refreshing it is to see someone use this format. The spacing and proper paragraphs just makes everything so much easier to read.
As for the story... dark. Very. I like the build up, as well as the large black text and final line. I feel that the final-bleeding-out portion was a bit rushed. Thanks for submitting this to the contest.

[Anne]

Thank you!

[Dante Carlisle]

I enjoyed the story. Definitely a bit dark, but that was obviously the intention. Sometimes you need something beyond the bounds of pretty and flowery to get people's attention. There were a few grammatical issues, but those are easily cleared up. The major portions definitely seemed a bit rushed, I agree with Clifford. I think you could take more time to focus on the dream where she was the one in control, and the way she felt the next day because of that control. Also, the climax was definitely rushed, almost to the point of too hurried. But, a great story, and one that could be something great if you fleshed it out a bit more.
Keep Writing!!! I'd love to read more!