A Plethora of Randomness

Can I See You?*

Warning: contains mention of self-harm, suicide, offensive slurs, and mental illness. This writing is not meant for a young audience. Please click away if these topics are triggers or cause any feeling of distress. Take care of yourself!

The boy sat in his room alone, dark thoughts flooding his mind as he held a knife tightly in his hand. His room consisted of his bed on the left side, his wooden desk on the right, and a giant window facing the street-side. The sound of blaring police sirens filled his ears and compelled him to look out of his window, absorbing the sight of the dark street that was illuminated only by the porch lights of his neighbors' houses and the red and blue fluorescent lights down the street that he recognized so well. That's when he heard that voice he'd grown all-too-familiar with, the voice of the man who lived inside his head.

"It'll take them around five minutes to get here at the pace they're at right now," he chimed as he materialized in the boy's room wearing a dark violet ringmaster's outfit, his ivory cane tapping against the wooden floor of the room. "That's all the time you have left."

The boy acknowledged what the man had said, but refused to look at him, instead walking over to the bookshelf next to his bed and picking up a small, shiny golden ticket. It wasn't anything too special, but bore a spade insignia in the middle of the parchment that was surrounded by swirly designs and had the present date written on it.

"My ticket expires today," the man said as he walked over to the boy, placing his hand on his shoulder "So it's either me or them," he stated as the boy finally looked over at him, staring at his face.

The young, prodigious ringmaster's hair was a shade of mulberry in color and cut in a neat undercut fashion, and snaking from the right side of his face, covering his eye, all the way down to whatever was visible of his neck, there was an ugly burn. His eyes, though, were a pitch black, as if they were without a sclera and he couldn't truly see through them at all. They looked like a pool of ink had filled his eye sockets, and were the most intimidating part of his entire demeanor. He simply smiled as he stared at the boy straight in the eyes.

"They'll think you're crazy, Mateo."
Mateo flinched at the ringmaster calling him by name, and he took a step back, again walking toward the window.

"L-Leave me alone," he stuttered, adrenaline starting to pulse through his veins. "I t-told you I nev-er wanted to s-ee you a-again."
At this, the ringmaster laughed. "Then why am I here now, dear Mateo?" he asked tauntingly, tapping his cane against the floor for a second. "Why am I here in your room with you?"
"You're j-just in my he-ead, you're not real."
"But I am."
"G-get out of my h-ead."
"But I'm not even in it, Mateo."
"Get out of my head!" Mateo yelled, sitting on his bed and holding his head in his hands, gently tugging a little bit at his hair. "Leave me alone and go away!"
"See? Everyone will think you're crazy, Mateo," the ringmaster cooed, "Your family already thinks you're insane, why do you think the cops are coming?"
"I don-!" Mateo started to yell, but he stopped himself. "I don't know..." he said, realizing that he was going to be beat no matter what he did. "I don't know why..." he repeated dazedly, though his mind was racing and trying to come up with another reason for the authority's presence. Eventually, he ran out of options.
"My point is proven, dear child," the ringmaster said as he broke the secondary silence of the room. "Your family is clueless, dear, do you really think anyone's going to listen to you if you tell them there's a man who talks inside your head?" Mateo silently shook his head.
"That's right," the ringmaster smiled, "They hate you." Mateo resisted the urge to scream and instead looked at his arms, which were covered in sloppy cuts, some of which were fresh and others that were months old. "They don't... hate me?" Mateo hesitated, becoming even more unsure of the fact as he said it out loud. "They do."
Mateo still couldn't quite believe it, but then his thoughts started to drift outside of the room.
"Just kill yourself!"
"No one wants to look at your ugly face, f*g!"
"Are you insane? No one else is even here!"
"S-stop twitching like that, freak!"
"Go back to the hellhole you came from."
"You're going to die alone one day, Mateo!"
"You'll die alone."
"You'll be alone."
"All alone!"
"Alone."
"Forever!"
Mateo's parents had died when he was young, but at least he had his sister.
"Mateo, I'm not feeling so good..."
"Wait, hang in there!"
"I can't..."
"Eat this, here! Please, no, don't leave..."
He had no choice but to run away from everyone, anything, and everything.
"Get to work, boy, or I'll throw you out!"
"But I have nowhere to g-"
"Do you think I care?! You're skint, that's what!"
Eventually, he was taken and put into the foster care system.
"He's just such a messed up kid! Why would anyone want him?!"
"Look at him squirm! What a monstrosity!"
"I don't want him!"
"Get him away!"
One family pitied him enough to keep him.
"No one else wanted him, darling, he's just lonely..."
"But he's... look at him..."
"I don't want to hear it, dear,"
"I'm not giving him up."
"But he'll caus-"
"I'm not giving him up, Thomas. You can leave me if you don't want to take care of him, but he's lonely, and he just needs a family, that's all..." 
She was the only one who was willing to take him in.
But even she had her moments.
"Mateo, leave me alone, I'm trying to work right now!"
"But ma, I knocked the vase over, it hurts-"
"I said get out! Can't you see I'm busy right now?!"
Deep down, Mateo knew that she didn't want him either.
"Look, Thomas, just because he's a little hard to handle doesn't make hi-"
"He tried to strangle our daughter, Eliza! And now he's babbling about the 'voice in his head'! He's mental, sweetheart, he needs to leave!"
"He wasn't in control of himself, dear, you can't blame him... Thomas, please... don't do th-"
She fell over and hit the ground. Thomas's arm was held out in midair.
"You don't get to order me around anymore, b*tch! I'm tired of listening to you whine, and I'm tired of taking your orders like a dog! Don't you get it?! I can't have our child dying just because you want to save a street rat! Is he more important to you than Jillian?!"
"N-no, he's not... I'm sorry."
"I'll work on getting him..."
"Back in the system,"
"Dear."