username: The_Lone_Dog
prompt: 2
word count:1260
prompt: 2
word count:1260
The voices
I don’t want to be the bad guy anymore...
But the voices in my head won’t stop. I never wanted to kill my mother and father. But they told me to. Said my parents were planning to take me to a asylum because I was crazy, and the only way to stop that was to end their lives. Convinced me what I was doing was right. I believed it. I remember holding that knife as my parents watched in horror, begging me to calm down and let them live. I wanted to. I wanted to show mercy. But they threatened me. So I did it. I killed my parents and fled the scene. I ran for days, taking shelter under benches and whatnot during the night to get some rest. But once the sun rose in the morning I was back up and running.
But the voices in my head won’t stop. I never wanted to kill my mother and father. But they told me to. Said my parents were planning to take me to a asylum because I was crazy, and the only way to stop that was to end their lives. Convinced me what I was doing was right. I believed it. I remember holding that knife as my parents watched in horror, begging me to calm down and let them live. I wanted to. I wanted to show mercy. But they threatened me. So I did it. I killed my parents and fled the scene. I ran for days, taking shelter under benches and whatnot during the night to get some rest. But once the sun rose in the morning I was back up and running.
I sat on a bench in a beautiful park with sunlight shining through the trees. Birds chirped, children played, and adults hung around and chatted about who knows what. Looking at all of the happy kids and parents made me think about my own family. Me, my mother and my father. My cozy home. Fond Memories began to appear in my mind reminding me of the good times in my childhood. The first day of kindergarten, Christmas, family game nights, just simply having heart to heart conversations with them. That was all gone now. All because of them. Those stupid voices that ruined my life. Rage built up in my stomach as I tried to wipe the everflowing tears away. Oh stop being such a wimpy cry baby, One voice said. No more happiness, no more guilt, no more tears, another one sang in a melancholy tone. I could feel the memories of my parents slowing dying away, until I could hardly recall what they even looked like.
I let out a strangled cry. Those memories were all I had left.
“Excuse me?” A kind voice asked from above me. A woman looking to be in her 30s smiled worryingly at me. Wiping my nose with my tattered sleeve I looked up and glared. She wavered a bit, but continued to talk.
“Are you lost? I can help you get back to your pare-”
“No.” She looked taken aback.
“No? Are you an orphan darling?” She prodded, getting closer. I wished to tell her I wanted food, I wanted shelter, I wanted someone to love me again, to get me out of this dark madness. But something snapped inside of me.
“You could call me that,” I smiled eerily at her, “You want to know why?” She sported a tentative expression before nodding silently. “It’s because my parents are dead. Why are they dead, may you ask?” The kind lady looked scared, as if she knew what was coming next.
“Sweetie, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to-”
“I killed them. The voices inside my head told me to. So I did. Now they are telling me you should have the same fate.” There was silence. The woman backed away and slowly reached into her pocket for what seemed was her phone. “No! Don’t you dare!” I screeched, lunging at her as she shakily dialed a number. I clawed at her trying to grab the phone but it seemed she had already successfully gone through with the call. Quickly I ran off, seeing as I wouldn’t knock the phone out of her hands in time.
“Hello? Oh yes-please-There’s a young boy who’s saying he killed his parents-” Her voice slowly faded into the distance as I exited the park and got further into the city. I sat down near a alleyway to catch my breath. A sudden terrifying realization hit me as I lay by myself with my thoughts. I liked the look of fear on her face. It gave me some sort of feeling of power. And the scariest part was it didn’t bother me at all. I was broken out of my thoughts as police sirens blared down the street. They’ll never find me, I thought bitterly.
After what seemed like hours of resting on the cold hard concrete, I heard a deep voice cough to get my attention.
“What do you want?” I drawled lazily slowly lifting my head up from my knees. A frightening gasp escaped my lisps. It was a police officer.
“I’ve been looking for a child-a fugitive child-and you seem to fit his description,” the officer spoke firmly.
“If you think that I’m the child you’re looking for, you’re sadly mistaken,” I tried to sound polite and calm, despite being annoyed and angered.
“Kid, there’s no point in lying. Confess now and we’ll have a civilized discussion alright? I don’t want to hurt you.”
I felt compelled to plead my innocence, but for some reason I also wanted to confess. Conflicted, I stayed silent. “Ah, so I was right. Now a kind lady said you were blabbing on about some voices in your head. Is this true?” Silence. “Okay, not much of a talker huh? How about your parents? She said you told her you killed them,” he prompted, seemingly getting more frustrated.
“That is none of your buisness!” I yelled, standing up, trying to intimidate the cop. However, I doubt he was that daunted by my impressive height of 5’1” that barely reached his chest.
“That’s cute kid, but unless you can give proof that you are in fact innocent, I’m gonna have to take you in.”
No, Jail is not an option. There is no way I’m going there. I felt a burning hatred for the cop. How dare he try to imprison me. I glared at him and clenched my fists, ready to attack if he tried to grab me.
“Fine. Take me in. Interrogate me.”
“Good boy, now follow me to the car,” he reached for my wrist. With a sudden yelp, I punched him in the face. Officer no name stumbled back in pain. Taking advantage of the opportunity, I snatched the gun from his holster and pointed it at the bridge of his now bloodied nose. I stood there staring emotionlessly at him until he regained balance and held out his hand. “Come on, give me the gun.” I kept my ground, and as he crept closer I moved my finger to the trigger. “just please hand it to me. No one has to be harmed, I know your not a bad kid.”
“You’re wrong,” I snarled, starting to slowly press on the trigger.
“Wrong? About what?” The officer asked bewildered.
“I’m not a good kid.” A loud booming sound rang out through the crowded city. People scurried off in different directions screaming. But everything sounded far off, like an echo, with the ringing in my ears and the pounding of my head. Staring at the lifeless body of the police man I figured out that no voice in my head coaxed me into murdering him. It was all my doing. I had become the monster that I feared in my mind. Maybe I AM a bad guy, but I didn’t mind that anymore. Maybe the voices in my head weren’t really them. Maybe it’s always just been me.
“Excuse me?” A kind voice asked from above me. A woman looking to be in her 30s smiled worryingly at me. Wiping my nose with my tattered sleeve I looked up and glared. She wavered a bit, but continued to talk.
“Are you lost? I can help you get back to your pare-”
“No.” She looked taken aback.
“No? Are you an orphan darling?” She prodded, getting closer. I wished to tell her I wanted food, I wanted shelter, I wanted someone to love me again, to get me out of this dark madness. But something snapped inside of me.
“You could call me that,” I smiled eerily at her, “You want to know why?” She sported a tentative expression before nodding silently. “It’s because my parents are dead. Why are they dead, may you ask?” The kind lady looked scared, as if she knew what was coming next.
“Sweetie, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to-”
“I killed them. The voices inside my head told me to. So I did. Now they are telling me you should have the same fate.” There was silence. The woman backed away and slowly reached into her pocket for what seemed was her phone. “No! Don’t you dare!” I screeched, lunging at her as she shakily dialed a number. I clawed at her trying to grab the phone but it seemed she had already successfully gone through with the call. Quickly I ran off, seeing as I wouldn’t knock the phone out of her hands in time.
“Hello? Oh yes-please-There’s a young boy who’s saying he killed his parents-” Her voice slowly faded into the distance as I exited the park and got further into the city. I sat down near a alleyway to catch my breath. A sudden terrifying realization hit me as I lay by myself with my thoughts. I liked the look of fear on her face. It gave me some sort of feeling of power. And the scariest part was it didn’t bother me at all. I was broken out of my thoughts as police sirens blared down the street. They’ll never find me, I thought bitterly.
After what seemed like hours of resting on the cold hard concrete, I heard a deep voice cough to get my attention.
“What do you want?” I drawled lazily slowly lifting my head up from my knees. A frightening gasp escaped my lisps. It was a police officer.
“I’ve been looking for a child-a fugitive child-and you seem to fit his description,” the officer spoke firmly.
“If you think that I’m the child you’re looking for, you’re sadly mistaken,” I tried to sound polite and calm, despite being annoyed and angered.
“Kid, there’s no point in lying. Confess now and we’ll have a civilized discussion alright? I don’t want to hurt you.”
I felt compelled to plead my innocence, but for some reason I also wanted to confess. Conflicted, I stayed silent. “Ah, so I was right. Now a kind lady said you were blabbing on about some voices in your head. Is this true?” Silence. “Okay, not much of a talker huh? How about your parents? She said you told her you killed them,” he prompted, seemingly getting more frustrated.
“That is none of your buisness!” I yelled, standing up, trying to intimidate the cop. However, I doubt he was that daunted by my impressive height of 5’1” that barely reached his chest.
“That’s cute kid, but unless you can give proof that you are in fact innocent, I’m gonna have to take you in.”
No, Jail is not an option. There is no way I’m going there. I felt a burning hatred for the cop. How dare he try to imprison me. I glared at him and clenched my fists, ready to attack if he tried to grab me.
“Fine. Take me in. Interrogate me.”
“Good boy, now follow me to the car,” he reached for my wrist. With a sudden yelp, I punched him in the face. Officer no name stumbled back in pain. Taking advantage of the opportunity, I snatched the gun from his holster and pointed it at the bridge of his now bloodied nose. I stood there staring emotionlessly at him until he regained balance and held out his hand. “Come on, give me the gun.” I kept my ground, and as he crept closer I moved my finger to the trigger. “just please hand it to me. No one has to be harmed, I know your not a bad kid.”
“You’re wrong,” I snarled, starting to slowly press on the trigger.
“Wrong? About what?” The officer asked bewildered.
“I’m not a good kid.” A loud booming sound rang out through the crowded city. People scurried off in different directions screaming. But everything sounded far off, like an echo, with the ringing in my ears and the pounding of my head. Staring at the lifeless body of the police man I figured out that no voice in my head coaxed me into murdering him. It was all my doing. I had become the monster that I feared in my mind. Maybe I AM a bad guy, but I didn’t mind that anymore. Maybe the voices in my head weren’t really them. Maybe it’s always just been me.
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