The Voice | Teen Ink

The Voice

November 12, 2014
By Deandrea SILVER, Wharton, New Jersey
Deandrea SILVER, Wharton, New Jersey
7 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
It is What It Is...


The lights were blinding, the shouts were deafening, and the putrid smell was unbearable. They told me I did something wrong and I deserved everything I would get. But I didn’t, I did what needed to be done. That rotten soul will never hurt anyone ever again.


It all started about a year ago, when the voices in my head came alive. When they came alive I started to get the urge to do some things. When I say some things I don’t mean anything bad, I just felt like I wanted to set things on fire. Well It started by setting things on fire, then it slowly progressed into other things.


  When my husband realized that I was always making small fires and such, he asked if I could stop. I reasonably assumed that he wanted me to stop because it could be harm to our kids and the kids in the neighborhood. Not really wanting to hurt anyone I stopped, but then the voices would tell me to do worse things.
By worse things I mean the first time I ever kidnapped someone, it’s not like I wanted the brat. The little brat kept coming to my door, asking if I wanted to buy something off of her fundraiser. She was annoying me and I couldn’t handle it anymore, I took the little girl and threw her into the basement. Don’t worry I eventually let her go, hours later. When I finally scared her enough so that she will never even look in the direction of my house again.


After that entire fiasco though, the voices didn’t seem to come back until a few days afterward. These voices eventually tricked me into thinking that, they were actually helping me. Deep down I guess I knew that they weren’t but they were my friends, well I thought they were my friends Too bad it took me to long to realize that they didn’t care what happened to me.

The voices had tricked me yet again into doing yet another thing for them. This time they wanted me to set a school on fire. I eventually did so, I signed in as a visitor then I ran back to my car with bottles filled with gasoline. On each of the bottles there was holes penetrated into the bottom and so that it leaked all over the hall ways and any other surface I happened to walk on.


Every time though I managed to keep spilling some on my sweater and I knew that I might not make it if I follow through with this plan. I flicked the match and I saw lines of fire explode throughout the halls, bathrooms and even some classrooms. As I predicted, my sweater also caught fire. Glad that the rotten voice will never trick me again. I smiled as my flesh burned, knowing that I will live a great life in my next life for the great deed I just had completed for everyone.


This feeling was quickly extinguished, when I felt a rush of cold water and foam hit my body. Too fast for my liking, the entire fire was put out and everyone was screaming at burned materials, burned children and a school that was burned from the top to bottom. The police eventually came and started questioning everyone, as a paramedic was checking at the melted flesh that was stuck to my clothing and hair. The paramedic quickly smelt the gasoline all over my skin, clothes, and hair. She speedily made sure that the police knew about her suspicions.


This is how I had been put into this cozy asylum, where I am not allowed to do anything but write and speak about the terrible crime I had committed. Hopefully, someone in the near future will realized I did nothing. It was the voice inside my head, it took over my brain and my actions.
 



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