Nightmare (BoyxBoy)

1- Freak

A/N Picture on the side is of Skylar :)
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I stared at my reflection in the mirror, ghost like eyes showed on the fractured surface; the piercing blue colour standing out from the darkness like a neon sign flashing away my abnormalities. I pleaded to the image of myself, begged and prayed for it to become just like everyone else. I desperately wanted to fit in...

...But you won’t, because you’re not like everyone else.

Shut up.

Why?

This is my head!

Are you sure about that? The voices questioned, unfortunately...I wasn’t. Ever since I was born I had heard these voices in my head, whispering to me...speaking to me...controlling me. But back then, when I had answered them it wasn’t weird, no one really even noticed, they just brushed it off as though they were merely imaginary friends. But they were more real than I’d ever care to admit.

But now they don’t brush it off, now when I speak to them aloud, people look at me as though I’m crazy, as though I’m from a different planet...as though I am not even human.

That’s because you aren’t.

“Shut up!” I yelled punching the mirror watching as the pieces came shattering down.

My knuckles bled from the impact of the glass, but I enjoyed the pain, it offered the type of clarity that no pill ever had.

Schizophrenia, that’s what they called it, a label that I felt never truly fit, because these voices weren’t something I had created or imagined they belonged to something and no pill could erase them from my mind.

Just like the nightmares that no therapist could explain, the nightmares that would always be more than just dreams.

“Skylar!” Called my mother, having heard the shattered mirror paired with my scream. Her eyes were frantic until they landed on the glass brandished on the carpet floor. “What did you do now?” she sighed.

“It was an accident...”

She looks at me disappointed, wishing I knew; that it was possible to re-gift your only son. “Isn’t it always?” she replies before she walks out the door, leaving my blood to drip its desolate tears on the carpet.

 This is all your fault, I think.

You need us...

Like Hell I do... I counter as I grab my backpack slung across the back of my chair, gathering my homework and textbooks shoving them all inside; before following my mother on her lifelong path away from me.

As I exit the house, closing the solid wood door behind me I can’t help but wonder if this was all there was to my life? If every day would consist of the same old battle for control of my mind, if five years from now I would still be standing in front of a mirror asking what it was about me that was so different.

Everything...

Leave me alone I muttered as I continued to walk down the sidewalk on my way to school, ignoring the voices that were like a soundtrack to my messed up life.

As I walked, my feet hitting the ground with a cold hard slap, protesting my advancement to this place called school, I thought. I thought about how they promised I would be safe here, as I sat in the office with my parents, they said “He will be just fine” like Hell I would. They promised that this school would be different from the previous one’s I’ve been to, that here I would be accepted and welcomed with open arms. Instead my welcoming consisted of closed fists. They said that here I would not be tormented or made fun of; that I wouldn’t be bullied or pushed to the outside of a circle I would never be a part of. They said that I would belong...but in the end I was thing that didn’t.