Hamilton One-Shots

Just Another Attempt To Make The Voices Stop

Dedication: To zennaveive , who thought "some [M]eggy would be cool". To Amber_de_Lafayette , who knew.

Trigger Warning: Mentions of self harm, but nothing big, I promise. I can't bring myself to go into details. Hits too close to home.

Peggy POV

There are voices. In my head. I don't know who they are. But they speak to me. They tell me what to do. They keep me company.

Sometimes, I know who they are. Sometimes, they are who I choose.
Sometimes, they are just me.
Sometimes, they give me headaches.
But all of the time, they are there. Whispering. Helping. Supporting.

I know they're real because they don't ever say what I want them to say. They have their own minds, like people. It's genetically impossible for two people to share the same thoughts at the same time, 24/7/365. Trust me, I've looked into it.

I guess I'm science-y. I don't know. I don't really think about it. I mean, the only reason I'm in this fancy prep school is because my dad basically begged them to let me in, since "I've got nothing else to offer" (per my dad).

I hate it here. It's not the classes. It's not the kids. It's not the teachers. The problem is the voices. They're here, too. They're everywhere, but they call to me more than normal when I'm here. Stronger, I would describe it. More influential. But, that doesn't necessarily mean better.

See, 'more influential' also refers to the fact that they could be misguiding me. Telling me to do bad things. And then I get in trouble. But who do I blame it on? The voices inside my head? I can't just tell that to the principal. He'd think I'm crazier than I already appear. At least, that's what They say.

I don't always get it. I don't understand why someone must be cruel to you because you're different. Because you have tiny people inside your brain, conversing with you. Because you think they'll only hear you if you reply out loud. Because you hardly talk, but when you do, it's nerdy and awkward.

I think I just need a friend. I've got no one. I made the mistake of telling my sisters about the voices. They told my friends. They left. And I've never mentioned my voices again.

With the need of a friend, also comes the need of a diagnosis. I know there's something wrong with me. I know that, it's so clear. But nobody professional's ever confirmed it. I think I'm depressed. I know I've got anxiety, which freaking sucks, by the way.

I'm in class. I'm bored. I already know everything we're learning. I need to escape. I raise my hand. The teacher looks up. I don't feel like talking right now. Or ever. I make the bathroom sign and he nods. I make a beeline towards the bathroom. I close the stall door, and decide to stay there for the rest of the period, which ends in a few minutes anyway.

I slide down the wall, my head tucked into my knees, and I stay like that. I hear the dismissal bell go off. I hear a few girls come into the bathroom. They're crowded around the one mirror, I know it. They're those kind of people. They start talking. They don't know I'm here. I should stop listening. But I don't. I want to hear the gossip for once, and not over social media.