Schizo | Teen Ink


July 29, 2011
By LiveWrite991, Lakeland, Florida
More by this author
LiveWrite991, Lakeland, Florida
0 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"'Surely you don't mean that.' 'Yes I do. And don't call me Shirley.'" "Don't tell me the sky is the limit when there are footprints on the moon."

The emerald glimmered. What was I supposed to do, not steal it? They practically ordered me to, what with the only security measures being nothing but some bulletproof glass and an overweight security guard. I had stealth, time, and a knife on my side. What did they have? Nothing.

No one but the officer was in sight. A smile crept onto my face; this would be not only easy, but fun. The cave was dark, damp, insanely well preserved and moldy smelling. If I had to choose where I could make a kill, the museum would be pretty ideal.

It was an odd place, this little exhibit. The entirety of the museum was above ground in a building, and then one day they dug into this little spot. The goal was to find a place for water piping, but they stumbled upon an underground cave which was just perfect for their precious little jewels. It was also, conveniently enough, soundproof, and the muddy ground easily hid the clump of footsteps.

I slid behind the pillars and crates, my fingers outlining the knife in my pocket. I did not make a sound. Strangely, though, I didn’t hear the chomping of a fat man and his donut, either. Stealing a glance from behind my spot, I saw that the man was already lying in a puddle of blood. The inner Voice popped up. You were supposed to kill him. Worthless! Now get the emerald, the emerald…

The emerald! I shifted over to the precious gem, only to catch sight of another character attempting to take it. Jumping to my feet, I was across the room in a matter of a second. The thief looked up, his black shirt stained red. He had on a ski mask, yet in under a second, my throat was held by his oddly petite hands. The person struggled to cut a hole through the glass at the same time.

Ugh, the Voice said in disgust, you’re better than him. I threw the guy off me. Gripping my knife, I easily sliced the edges and popped the top off. Just as quickly, the man grabbed the emerald and sprinted up the stairs with me on his tail. We rammed into the emergency exit and kept our pace down the road. No one had enough time to follow.

I stopped. Let him think that he’s home free. The Voice ordered. Stepping into the alley to my right, I dashed down and covered the 100 yards in a fair 3.142 seconds. Right on cue, the masked stranger turned the corner and I tackled him.

He struggled for breath, and the emerald flew out of his tiny hands. I smiled, snatched it up, then sat back on my heels.

Then I unmasked him.

“You’re a…” I struggled to find words. The voice seemed silent as well. Rarely was I speechless, but what was this? “You’re a girl.” I finally finished and rid my mouth of the words. She sat up and shook her hair so that it tumbled down her shoulders. I couldn’t believe this. Surprised at my reaction, Voice snapped at me. Don’t let her fool you. I tried to look past her oddly enticing features, but found it next to impossible. Dispose of her!

The red hair that fell down to mid-back was so bright that it seemed to be a spurious color, something out of a bottle, and her eyes were a deep, rare indigo. Her skin was porcelain-perfect, yet a cream beige-tan that was pale, but wasn’t.

Stop it! You have a job. You have to get rid of her, and fast. She knows who you are- I’m surprised if she doesn’t- and as long as she knows, there’s trouble.

“Can I help you?” She asked, smoothly standing up and shaking herself off, giving the illusion that she disregarded the fact that I wanted to kill her. I shook my head firmly. “No. Come on.” I grabbed her wrist but she wrenched out of my grip. “Oh, no. I’m not going any-where with you.”

I frowned. Just take her. Voice didn’t usually show emotion, but I detected a hint of impatience in the demand. Either way, I ignored it. “Why not?” I tried to charm my way in, but she smirked. “I expect a big boy like you to know how this works. You’re not stupid- you just want me dead, or else I’ll kill you. Isn’t that the process? You’re a criminal- we just committed the crime, and I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but when you took off my mask, you swallowed, and inhaled 3 tracker devices in your system. I could turn myself in, and also turn you in… I’m sure that the reward for a 19 year old super criminal- that may or may not be mental- would cancel out my sentence, wouldn’t you think?”

I took a step toward her. She didn’t back up or even flinch, causing me to rethink my attack. “What’s this about me being mental?” I asked, and under her touch exterior, I saw a flicker of relief. She looked discreetly around, planning her escape, maybe, and I grabbed her wrist again- just to make sure there would be no ‘escape’. I repeated my question.

“Haven’t you read a newspaper?” I shook my head. “Well, almost all police and scientists have come to the conclusion that you’re schizophrenic,” After a look at my blank face, “Multiple personalities? You know, those psychos who think they have little people in their head.”

I decided not to mention the Voice. “So America thinks I belong in an asylum?”

“Pretty much.”

“Do you think I do?”

She looked around uncomfortably. “Listen, I don’t really think I’m qualified to answer tha-” I shook her, cutting her off. “Do you think I belong in an asylum?”

The redhead sighed. “From what I’ve seen of you, besides the fact that you really want to kill me, I don’t think you’re any crazier than the rest of us. But inside, don’t all of us need to hang in the nuthouse for a while?” I ignored her question; it was rhetorical, anyways. Kill her! Voice came back from its slight break- why would he leave for long? That would just help me and we wouldn’t want that to happen, would we?

She sighed again, which was beginning to get annoying. “Will you let me go?” I snorted. “Please. After that tracker thing you pulled? Not likely.” Good, good. Use her words against her. Speaking of annoying, I was next to done with the Voice. I’d had it for more than three years, and they usually just come and go. I’ve had helpful voices, but people tried to convince me that they didn’t exist. Ha. I’ve showed them- the most successful criminal in the world, crazy. What a stupid idea.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a black car drive by. My heart began to pound and I yanked the girl behind a crate and slapped my hand over her mouth. She mumbled something, but it sounded incoherent. “Shh! Shut up.” I started to breathe heavily and got antsy, like there were little bugs crawling all over me. She raised her eyebrows in question, and I felt compelled to tell her.

“They’re after me. They want to kill me, all of them. Its part of their group, the Society, maybe you’ve heard of them?” I paused, and she shook her head in response. I continued on. “Well, they’ve been tracking me down since I ran away from home when I was nine.” She bit me, and I winced at the pain, but didn’t take my hand away.

Five minutes had passed when I finally got up and scanned the perimeter of the alley for any others. Finally, I yanked her up. “Okay, now I’m starting to rethink that whole ‘crazy’ idea.” She confessed, and out of rage, I punched her. She made an oof noise that gave me intense satisfaction. Kill her. Kill her now, or they’ll get you. Or I’ll get you. I hadn’t thought of that- Voice knew where I was every second of the day, knew all of my secrets, knew every regret that I would never bring myself to admit.

I threw her to the ground and ran. I know she hit her head, but I ran to fast to know what happened next. I pleaded with the Voice, and I’m not sure how much of it was out loud, but as my feet pounded the gravel while I dodged cars coming for me, I thought of yet another threat: what if I was going the right way, and all of these people were members of the Society? They usually traveled exclusively in black cars, but they could change. I could be running straight into my doom.

Soon, I found myself jumping on top of the cars while they moved; a new form of transportation I hadn’t thought of. Jump off! The Voice ordered. Even though I had had doubts, so far the Voice had been right, so I obeyed. I fell straight forward with my arms crossed tightly across my chest.

The gravel made impact with my face, and upon hearing the screeches of brakes and squeal of sharp turns, blood began to drip off my face. Gashes formed across my knees and legs, and I felt a rib break. Good, good. Voice sounded satisfied. I had no energy to even respond in my head or swear as much as possible at it; I simply lay motionless. Images of buildings I had never seen soared into my head and smashed into my brain, crushing it under the weight. I saw cities, streets, people, and animals that seemed to flash by more quickly than a burst camera took pictures. I had seen not one thing that snapped into my mind ever before in my life. The white-hot searing pain made me imagine what it would feel like to be shot by a bullet. I feebly spit out blood as the images continued to flip by faster than ever.

“STOP!” I screamed, not knowing who would hear and not caring. “MAKE IT STOP OHGODNOJUSTLETMEDIEJUSTMAKETHISFREAKINGPAINSTOPPPP!” It was all black, allowing me to see nothing but whatever was being sent into my head, and I couldn’t turn it off. Please let me die, just please. I whimpered in my mind. Was this the government’s work? The society’s, maybe?

The pain scorched and burnt holes through any coherent thoughts I had. Soon, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t talk, I was paralyzed, but I couldn’t bear to watch anything more. They turned into horrid pictures of bloodied people, wars, the apocalypse, and I was crying. Nothing I had ever seen compared to the hideousness of what I saw right then.

Then it was black.

When I awoke, there was no person in sight. The road was barren, the grass beside the highway brown and dead. Totaled cars and smashed vehicles scarred around, clogging the road. I climbed atop one. There were no bodies or any sign that people had existed, except for the cars and such. But I wondered if the images from my accident were any omen to the apocalypse. Was this the apocalypse? I hoped not.

I suddenly recognized that my body was scratch free. Had the previous events even hap-pened? Of course they had, because I had a massive headache that pounded through my skull. But where was everyone? My Voice was silent as well, making me question what I remembered. In fact, I slowly began to realize that my memory was steadily receding. All that I knew was what had just happened. I didn’t even know how I had collided with the cars, I just recalled the images, the painful images, and the awful blood, and the screams of the cars collision- that I didn’t even take into account during the actual thing.

There was a figure in the distance. The silhouette, as it came closer, was notably a girl’s. A girl with flaming red hair and porcelain skin. I had seen her before. Who was she, and why did she look so familiar? The closer she came, the more I noticed. She had deep purple eyes, and a bandage wrapped around her head. She called my name, but I couldn’t form any words.

“Hello, again.” She propped herself against the car I was standing on. “Short time, no see.” I was confused. “When have we ever met? I know I’ve seen you before. Where have we met?” She giggled with an amused expression crossing her beautiful face. “You’re such a dumb-a**.”

I frowned. Oddly enough, though, even the insults coming out of her mouth were pleasing to the ear. I almost wanted to hear more… Stop it! What was I doing? If Voice were here, it’d send me another thought bomb, just for that. Why was I letting myself get sucked into this, I had a perfectly acceptable lifestyle that I liked. No girl would change that.

“Come on,” She giggled again and pulled me after her as we began to walk. “I’m Anna. We never properly introduced ourselves, but I know your name.” I racked my brain for any answers that would un-confuse me, but nothing added up. “I love you.” I blurted. Where had that come from? This was why I needed Voice. I hadn’t met the girl, but still, I was totally convinced of what I felt. She smirked and nodded.

“I know you do. We’ve been over this. Plus, we’re dead.” What was Anna talking about? Although I just loved the way her named rolled off my tongue- well, in my head, at least. “Anna, what are you trying to say?” Yes, I was right. It sounded good out loud as well. But I was serious. Who was this girl?

“Listen, I need to tell you something.” She faced me, and the barren wind picked up, blowing her hair in her face. “You need to know that the Society is-”

She crumpled to dust. A pile lay at where her feet used to be. What was this twisted reality, this creeping fantasy? I didn’t understand, and for the second time in two days, I cried. The wind picked up. It blew me over. I lay on the ground with dust in my eyes, and it was disturbing to think that it might be Anna that was in my eyes, her being. This was just as disgusting as the day before.

Yet again, the darkness swallowed me, and I spiraled into oblivion

A bright light blared into the creases of my eyes, white and patronizing. Beeping noises surrounded me and soon I could vaguely see the room I was in, blurred and tripled, but it slowly came into vision. I was in a hospital bed. There were white walls, and a monitor to the right of me was the source of the beep. Several people surrounded me, in white coats and scribbling vigorously on clipboards. A camera crew sat in the doorway, focused on me, through the blur, I could see that a T.V. was on, and I was on it.

“Where am I?” I croaked. Numerous gasps rippled around the room, but no one replied. I tried to wave my hand, but I was strapped to the bed. I screamed.

Two large men shuffled over and shot something into my arm. I shut up. Finally, a doctor stepped forward and pushed them gently away. “You’re in Davidson Mental Hospital. Tell me how you feel. Are you okay?” It was such a ridiculous question, that with the little energy I had, I chuckled. “Well, I’m doing just dandy. How are you?” The man smiled sadly. “Do you feel sick, or do you have any nausea or headache?”

“Well, next to having the headache talk to me, I feel terrible. Would anyone like to explain to me what is happening? Or am I going to have to kill to find out?” They looked nervous and I felt a bit satisfied inside. But the doctor stayed calm and didn’t tell me anything. He would make an excellent criminal if he needed a back-up job. I didn’t feel the need to tell him, though; I wanted to hear what fresh heck they were throwing my way.

“Does it feel like the past ten years have been real? Like you’ve robbed museums and stores and houses, like you’ve killed people? What about Anna?” I tried to break out at the sound of her name. “What’ve you done with her? Where is she? Give Anna to me!” I shouted at them, but they were silent, except for the sounds of pens scribbling. The camera crew nodded excitedly at each other and I wanted to scream- but I didn’t, because whatever they shot into me hurt. The doctor looks intensely at me.

“Do you remember the accident? Your Voice told you to jump off the cars and you obeyed. What did you see? Were there images in your head?” I didn’t bother to ask how they knew about that. “Give Anna to me! Is she here? Where did you send her?” They all held their breath around me and I spoke to the doctor one more time. “Why did you bring me here?”

He sighed and turned around before he spoke. I could almost hear the collective gasps of whoever was being broadcasted to as the doctor replied.

“We didn’t bring you here. The thing is- you never left.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “What do you mean? I’ve never been here in my life.” Everyone’s breath began to come shallow and uneasy as they watched my reactions. The doctor stayed scarily calm, though. “I mean, you’ve never left. You’ve never been anywhere else in your life, you were born with a mental disorder and you grew up here. Does it really feel like you had those accidents? I needed to have an experiment, and you were the perfect subject. We put you under semi-permanent aesthesia, and inserted memories, thoughts, and scenes into your bloodstream, where it carried to your brain. Anna is not a real person- you’ve never robbed a museum, stolen anything, killed anyone, or had an accident. You developed schizophrenia a few months ago while you were under our aesthesia- which is extremely rare, in fact, I’ve never seen it before- and soon you became kind of America’s little project. Nothing that you think has happened really has.”

“WHAT?” I shouted at the doctor. He bit his lip. “So, the Society is….” My voice trailed off. “The society was something your subconscious came up with. We aren’t really sure what all has happened, but we’ve gotten clear images of your mind.” With that, I noticed that the screen cut from my shocked face to pictures of what I’d been through- my bleeding face, the painful images that jammed into my skull, and Anna all flew onto the T.V. Was this real? Had I lived a lie? Images of me sleeping were next shown to America. What was real?

Was I really schizophrenic? Was the life I’d lived in my head a total fake?

Not anymore. Voice! I had hoped that out of all of this, I’d have gotten rid of it. Get out of me! You aren’t part of my life here!

I zoned out and climbed into my mind. But Voice replied with what I’d feared most.

You and I will never separate. I am you. You can’t kill me off, I thrive inside you and no matter what, I control you. Now slide your arms out of the clamps. My body obeyed it, and my arms slid unnoticed out of the metal grips on the chair. I struggled to keep myself in, but my legs followed suit. Stop. I begged in my mind. Let me live for once. Let me find some answers.

But I shoved through the camera crew and ran down the hall. “Help! Someone STOP ME, please!” People chased, but I was faster. I control you. Welcome to my reality.

Thus begins my final journey.

Similar books


This book has 4 comments.

on Aug. 16 2011 at 8:43 am
emilybwrites SILVER, Villa Hills, Kentucky
5 articles 0 photos 112 comments

Favorite Quote:
last night i lay in bed, looking up at the stars and i thought to myself, where the heck is the ceiling?

ok sorry if this posted twice, something happened. well i have 2 poems on the website right now, i just sent in 2 more and im working on a short story to submit. do u have anything besides this story?

on Aug. 16 2011 at 8:39 am
emilybwrites SILVER, Villa Hills, Kentucky
5 articles 0 photos 112 comments

Favorite Quote:
last night i lay in bed, looking up at the stars and i thought to myself, where the heck is the ceiling?

well i have 3 poems on teen ink so far and i am working on a short story right now...and i have 2 poems that havent gotten the OK to be on the website so far. do u have anything besides this story?

LiveWrite991 said...
on Aug. 15 2011 at 9:45 pm

Thanks em! Have you posted anything yet?


on Aug. 15 2011 at 8:45 pm
emilybwrites SILVER, Villa Hills, Kentucky
5 articles 0 photos 112 comments

Favorite Quote:
last night i lay in bed, looking up at the stars and i thought to myself, where the heck is the ceiling?

hey kasey! its emily this story is great!! i loved it so much!