Meet a character I have had for years who has changed from this into a completely different person. I might share another short story with the new version of Vickey later. IDK yet... The other one is a personal story so... We'll see if I'm ever comfortable enough to share it.
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"Did you see what's on the news?"
"I knew I forgot to get that! Now I have to go back to the store."
"Mom can I borrow your nailpolish?"
"Hey honey, can you walk the dog? I'm in a meeting."
Voices.
Thousands upon thousands of voices filled Vicky's head, like the tiny bubbles of soap that surrounded her in the bath. They stacked on top of eachother, layer upon layer. Shouts and whispers blurred into inaudible noise. Words from the past and present overlapped with words from the future until their time of origin was indistinguishable.
Language and dialect.
Age and gender.
It didn't matter who used them or how they were used.
Imagine you were playing every radio station at once, including the classical station which is stuck playing Beethoven's Fifth on repeat. Turn them all up to full volume, then imagine you were the only one that could hear it.
It would sound like every toddler in the world was screaming and crying at the same time.
Now you know what it's like in her shoes, because that is what she heard.
The screams of hell.
Vicky's personal hell, anyway.
The noises had been faint when she was a little girl. Random words at the oddist times. Strange voices when no one was talking.
Whenever Vicky had mentioned hearing the voices she was either laughed at or ignored. Her classmates all thought she was crazy and the school nurse believed her to be insane.
The nurse had convinced the principal to send a note home to Vicky's mom asking if her child was mentily unstable. The test results had all come back reading normal. The doctors agreed that she simply had an overactive imagination. Her mom believed that these so-called "voices" her daughter could hear were conversations Vicky had with her imaginary friends, even though she had never seen her daughter talk with them.
But Vicky was eleven at the time.
Saying she had imaginary friends at eleven years old was like signing her own death warrant. She was already the laughing stalk of the school. Being picked on by the seventh grade bullies was traumatizing enough for any fifth grader. She certainly didn't need her "imaginary friends" making her life any more miserable than it already was.
In reality, Vicky had no imaginary friends and a normal imagination. She knew that the voices were real and she knew that she wasn't crazy. She also knew she didn't need glasses, but that didn't stop her dad from trying. After taking her to over a hundred eye exams, he finally gave up.
The only person that had believed her, had been her cousin. He was only four months older than Vicky and when he was twelve, he had called the voices "Vicky's superpower!"
As a fourteen year old, soaking in the bathtub, Vicky had called it a curse.
Her curse.
Some extra burden she was forced to carry.
Her own personal nightmare.
YOU ARE READING
Random Writings and Shorts
Short StoryA place to publish shorts, a few school assignments and random stories I started over the years. I guess you could say this is a way to see how much my writing has changed.
