Short Stories to Get the Mind Going #7 - "Head Voice"
Well well well, here we are again, starting a post off with me saying I should have done this earlier, but my schedule has prevented me. I'm sick of this song and dance... let's just not set expectations here, agree? I'll put my stuff out when I do and you come enjoy it when you can.
ok, happy we got that outta the way.
now onto this story!
This free write was an interesting one for me. i really liked the concept as it was coming out of me during the session, then the end came and i thought it really came together nicely!
The artist I reached out to collaborate with me is sensational, Mr. Joe Karg, out of Atlanta caught my eye due to his stellar work on comedy posters. After we connected on Twitter i was able to see more of his work and was completely blown away by the talent he has. Please take the time to check out his Website and lose yourself in the world he creates every time he puts pen to paper. You can also check out Joe on his Instagram.
The phone wouldn't stop ringing.
At this time of night i bet it’s someone just trying to sell me something or get my opinion on some hard hitting topics, like if taxis were sports cars, would i be more likely to use them over Uber? I’ll let it go to voicemail.
-5 minutes later-
i cant believe it’s still ringing… whats up with my voicemail!?! “FINE! HELLO!!” I screamed into the receiver as I put it to my ear. “Hey…” says a stranger.
“Hello?” their tone is very off putting for these types of calls. “Hey…” they say again, “wake up…”
within an instant i was brought back to reality, sitting up in my bed. wait… i start to feel around… ya, my bed. i let out a sigh as i realize its only 4:30am, “that was a weird dream…”
“You can say that again” came the same voice that was my REM wake up call. startled, i look around to find who’s intruding in my room. no one…
“Who’s…” i say with a little crack in my voice, showing my nervousness. clearing my throat, “Who’s there?” that came out deeper then i anticipated, but i think it was effective.
“No one” came the voice again.
“What? Where are you!?!” still scanning the room for any shapes that could be the source of the voice. I flip on my nightstand lamp… still nothing.
“I’m right here” the voice says smugly
“THIS ISN’T FUNNY! SHOW YOURSELF!”
“OK… look in the mirror.”
“I don’t have time for games! I'm getting my gun if you don't come out!”
“No need to do that. Just do what I'm saying. look in the mirror.”
I turn to the mirror which takes up a majority of the wall next to my bed. looking in the mirror I only see a dumbfounded yours truly… No sign of anyone else.
“Look real hard” the voice continues. “Look yourself in the eyes. Don't blink. Don’t lose sight of your retinas. Concentrate on the darkest part of your cornea.”
Staring, for what felt like hours, i finally say, “i don't see anything. just me.”
“Exactly! That’s all i really am.”
“OK! FUCK YOU! COME ON OUT DAMN IT!” i had enough. so happy my voice didn't crack for that…
“I know this is a hard thing for you to understand. Because i am you. I’m all your real thoughts and feelings. The parts of you that you repress so you can float through your daily life with a smile on your face. Figured its about time we met.”
“…this…wha…this is a little much… what…” i thought hard to try to formulate the right words.
“you don't need to find the right words to say. (crunch… crunch) i already know what you’re feeling about the situation. (crunch) save your breath.” says the voice.
“Are you eating? Better yet… how are you eating?” each crunch echoes louder in my head.
“Just (crunch) found (crunch) some stuff (crunch)…”
“…laying around…(crunch)” the voice continued.
my jaw hurts…
“you going to eat that? (crunch)” said the voice. a little softer this time. the crunching seems to be affecting my ability to hear.
“i dont know what you’re asking about… are you pointing at something? i cant see you” my vision begins to blur.
“that, right over… ahhh screw it. if you don't know what i’m talking about, then you wont miss it.” (Crunch!)
“AHHHH! what was that!?!” the pain came with a quick stab, then faded to a dull throb.
“Oh nothing” (Crunch!)
“AHHHHH! Stop!” that time was sharper. bringing the feeling to a peak of almost unbearable proportions.
“See (crunch) the reason I'm finally able to communicate with you (crunch) is the fact you have been pushing so much of your actual feelings down (crunch) that i’ve grown.”
the pain has almost paralyzed me. i lay in the fetal position on my bed squeezing my temples as if I'm trying to pop the top of my head like a pimple. hoping to spew the agony puss out.
(Crunch) “Once i was big enough to communicate. i realized that if i held off, then you would continue your repression (crunch) causing me to grow even more (crunch). My hopes were to eventually take over your consciousness then i could repress you and begin my life.”
The crunching pain is increasing. every one fills my head. i begin to try and think of a way out of this. if the voice is actually a part of me then… (crunch!)
the thought was gone… i see white… then the room begins to appear slowly… i see my hand thats now pulled away from my face… its red…
“i don’t believe you…” i feel the vibrations in my mouth as the words come out, but i don't know if i actually got the right phrases off my tongue.
“No use in trying to think now (crunch) its too late. Where was i? (crunch) oh yes! after i started to devise the plan to take over. I figured out that all your memories are just these little chips (crunch) waiting for you to store them somewhere. If the chip is a good chip, you place it in your mental “bag” thats kept in your memory pantry for later use (crunch) However, if the chip was bad, you threw it into your mental “trash bin”. This should be taken out at least once every few years. If not, then you could attract rats (crunch)”
my left eye is useless now… my ears are ringings like a fire alarm was tripped…
“i’m that rat… i’ve eaten all your trash thoughts. (crunch) now I'm looking for the good chips.”
are my legs there? i cant feel them… id take my hands off my head to try and touch them, but my arms aren't reacting the way i want them too.
“the unfortunate part is i wont be able to take over your body once this is done. i’ve grown too hungry to care about differentiating what parts of your brain i should eat (crunch) i figure id go down with the ship. like the noble captain i would of been.”
it doesn't even feel like I'm breathing anymore…
“i’ve been trapped in your head for most of your life now. stuck there watching you second guess every decision, question every detail. it’s an incarceration i was never going to get out of. i guess we can look at this as my last meal.”