The voice had always been there. Not in the absurd ‘Devil and Angel’ way, no. Most of the time, it wouldn’t bug me, it stayed reserved to its place, at the back of my mind. Then there were those times when the fuse would get lit, and like an instant trigger, the voice would resurface. You might try telling me it’s Schizophrenia, but I know that’s not the case.
In the beginning the voice wasn’t very lurid; manipulative, sure, but not as violent as you would find it to be right now. It would stick to austere means of destruction, tantrums in the restaurant; bullying in the playground; nicking a couple pennies from strangers. I believed I always had the disposition to act like that; the voice just gave me that single push I always lacked.
Slowly, I became more cavalier, not caring whether my actions would affect the people who claimed to love me. My attitude became caustic, and my actions more violent. I wasn’t always like that though. There were times when the voice got tired, and retreated to its cave, and I wouldn’t feel as pressured anymore. The shy girl would return and gone was the gut instinct.
…show more content…
The voice was exceptionally powerful when her emotions were clouded by rage. So, to clear her head she had chosen to take a walk. It was meant to be refreshing, to clear her head; but when had fate ever been on her side.
Whenever she was angry her mind took it upon itself to provoke her even more, make her angrier than she was to call the devil out of its lair. Over the years, she had learned how to control it, but sometimes she couldn’t be bothered to. Now, she wished she had given in to the voice