I Hear You

3- Diagnose My Imagination

<Matthew Erwin>

Little voices shouldn't be apart of my imagination. Normal people don't have voices in their head, do they? Oh no, I just referred normal people as they. I'm not considered a 'they' anymore, am I? This is awful. Absolutely awful. I've always had a healthy mind. A positive attitude towards things. I'm normal!

When I arrived at my job today, I went straight to my boss, Thomas Thickere. The odd thing about Thomas is he tries to act like my friend. I bet he hates my guts. I have evidence. I have proof. Every Thursday I wear a blue tie with orange strips on it. Each time he passes me in the cubicle, he tugs on my tie, causing the tie to be tighter around my neck. He has a grudge against me. I ensure that he is trying to commit a first-degree murder, and I am the victim. He has this all planned out, I promise.

Why, why would a friendly boss like Thomas carry hatred towards me? I cannot answer that question because it's impossible to answer. Most likely though, I probably just look better in khakis than he does.

"The matter with you, son?" My boss said sharply, pretending that he was my father. He was not my father. My father had a warm gray mustache, this guy barely has a stubble! He also tends to act like he's sixty-two, but he's only forty-one. 

I stiffen my spine and act as if I was responding to a drill sergeant "Mr. Thickere, I have a concern with my mental health." I attempted in speaking in the most monotone voice I could do, instead, it sounded like a fourteen-year-old me going through puberty. I wouldn't be surprised if I was still in puberty, I behave like I am.

Thomas just laughed. He pulled the cigar out of his mouth, so he wouldn't choke. Deep down, I hope he would. He shouldn't be smoking cigars in this building, there's a No Smoking sign plastered on the entrance. What a truthful company this is.

"And why do you have a concern with your mind?" His laughing grisly voice spoke back to me. I hesitated, "well sir, I-I-"

"Spit it out, son!" He interrupted me.

I quickly rebounded "I hear voices. Inside my head. Alone. No one else around me." I said, trying to make myself clear.

He blinked at me as I full on spoke another language. I could tell he didn't know how to react. Certainly, I wouldn't have. I continued to make the situation more awkward, "I was wondering if the health benefits that I get here cover therapy at the office."

He blinked more and then responded slowly, "Yes, son. I apologize for my reaction, please seek some help. I wouldn't want my best employees to have come down with something." He sugar-coated his cheap butt. He just doesn't want to lose me. I'm the glue in this run-down company. If I were to quit, progress here would drop drastically, and the cards would all fall.

Acknowledging his confirmation, I immediately 'sought for some help'. I strolled downstairs, spending about five minutes searching for the therapist. There was a large door at the end of the hallway. There hung a small sign saying, Gina Parrieson. Ah yes, Mrs. Parrieson. I've always appreciated her. On my first day here, I remember her welcoming me with a warm smile and saying that if I ever needed anything, I should come to her. Haven't seen her since.

I lightly knocked on the door, hoping for a response. I heard a strong "come in". That was my cue. I opened the door, thinking I was a confident man about to sing Honey, I'm home! Instead, It was more of Honey, I set the kids on fire again. Please put it out for me. That's right, as a common four-year-old, I peeked around the door and whispered: "Hi, Mrs. Parrieson, may I talk to you?"

Again, I was greeted with her warm smile and simple nod. "Mr. Matthew Erwin, I'd recognize that face anywhere. What can I help you with?"

"I'm having a sort of...metal problem," I mumbled.

She nodded again, this time in more sympathy. "Come, sit down, dear. Tell me your troubles," she patted the chair across from her, signaling that I should probably obey her commands. I sat down as prompted and told her my troubles.

"Mrs. Parrieson, I'm going crazy."

"Is that so? Why do you assume you're crazy?" She placed her knee over the other, sitting sternly.

"I've been hearing voices in my head. I think I might have," I lowered my voice into a whisper: "schizophrenia."

She went silent, just like my boss did. Then she asked me a simple question, "how old are you, dear?"

"Nineteen," I replied.

She recrossed her legs, overlapping the other knee on top of the right knee, "Mr. Erwin, I'm afraid to tell you that you don't have schizophrenia."

My mind went blank, I felt like an idiot. I felt more like an idiot when I said huh?.

She shook her head with a smile, "have you ever heard of the NLX generation?"

"I only remember hearing the name tossed around on TV when I was a kid," I recalled. I honestly have no clue of what the NLX generation was. It sort of sounds like a bunch of secret agents.

Mrs. Parrieson tilted her head, about to explain to me, "NLX generation began since 1999. Scientists, or psychologists really, discovered about a few years later that every case since 2009 that was diagnosed with schizophrenia or another mental illness was born in 1999. Research revealed that those 1999 babies are telepathic."

I furrowed my brow, confused. I felt like I was living in a science fiction movie. Things like this don't happen in the real world. Looking back up at her, I squinted. She smiled.

"Additionally, 9 times out of 10, whoever you hear talking to you directly or indirectly, eventually becomes your soul mate," She began to speak faster, giggling quietly, "I wish it was that easy to find my husband, Doose. It took me fifteen years."

I shook my head, not accepting this. "But, but the voice in my head is a man! I'm-I'm straight," I said, worried.

She shrugged her shoulders and pushed up her glasses. "Guess you're not anymore."

But...

***A/N***

Welcome back my dudes to chapter 3! How are you enjoying the story so far? I know it's not too in-depth yet, but I'm getting there. I'm excited to reveal later chapters for you guys, and I hope you are eager to read them as well.

If you haven't heard, I've exposed that my "Ms. Tilly", my other story, actually my first story on Wattpad, is halfway through! Ahhhh! That's scary to think I'm really going to finish it...and soon. I'll have to make extra specials for combinations. I'm hoping to get Ms. Tilly done and retouched before February. If you're reading "Ms. Tilly", keep your heads up!

If you felt that this interesting chapter deserved a vote, slap the beautiful star for me and sign a comment while you're at it! Thanks for reading, bye guys, I love you all!

-MissyKZV