Tongue-Biter

Voices

The school week ended and the weekend was finally here. I was relieved until I remembered what this weekend was. The Fair. I hated outside activities, or just going outside in general. I didn't have a choice. We went every year with my dad's fiance's mom. I hated it almost as much as the Christmas events she made us go to. You know how painful it is to be the only one not smiling? In case you don't, it hurts. A lot. It sucks.
The next day came and we went to her mom, Debby's, house. Her family likes to hug, and I'm not a touchy person. I just avoid them as much as I possibly can. We waited a few hours until we left for the fair. When we got there, I stayed close to my dad. I didn't want to be with my sister, Debby, and everyone else. We walked around. That's it. We walked. They went into an animal thing and I wanted to stay outside. My dad stayed outside too so he could smoke. He lit his cigarette. " Damn, I'm already aggravated and we haven't been here but half an hour." He complained and blew his smoke. I agreed. I walked around on the vacant sidewalk. I heard a laugh. I turned to my dad. He wasn't doing anything. I looked around. No one. I heard it again. I looked around. My dad finished his cigarette. I ignored the laugh. They came out of the animal thing and we went walking again. For once, I was glad there was a lot of noise around. I didn't hear the laugh.
We went to a pizza place after the fair and ate. I finished first. I didn't eat much. I didn't feel like it. I laid my head on the table and heard whispers and felt like someone was...watching me? Targeting me. I tried convincing myself it was my imagination and anxiety. I wasn't convinced. When we got back to Debby's, I got online and searched up problems people could have. I took several online tests. They all came out the same. I felt insane. No one is going to believe me. Not my family. Friends. Anyone. I have a therapist. I'll convince my dad's fiance to take me there, despite how much I hate it. The more and more I thought, the more I realized. My whole life has been this way. Voices, people, isolation, lack of emotion, everything! I'm not going to self diagnose. I need to see my therapist.
We went home the next day. The next morning, school. I walked in and Jace was already there. " Hey, Connor!" He smiled. I smiled back. " Hey, Jace." We sat in our spot. But today, I didn't feel like talking. I didn't know if I could. " Connor?" Jace asked.
" Huh?" I turned. " What's up with you?" He looked really concerned. I can't keep stuff from Jace. He's my best friend. " Promise not to think I'm crazy?" I asked. He nodded. I sighed. " I think I'm schizophrenic."
( To be continued)