Writings from within

Nothing to worry about

"Why is there a voice in my head?" I innocently asked my parents at the ripe age of eight. My little heart beat faster, fearful they would call me crazy and lock me away. Instead they smiled down at me saying, "You don't need to be scared, there's nothing to worry about," sending me on my way through life. But with each year that passes the voice only grows stronger. Aging in vocabulary, darkening in message. From, "You should stick this toy up your nose," to "You're a waste of space." There's no running, no hiding from this relentless torture. "Nothing to worry about," is what my parents said. Now worrying is all I do. If I look fat in my dress, if my grades are good enough for a promising future, what death is like and why I want to find out. "Nothing to worry about," they said as I'm covering my ears with my hands screaming with tears streaming down my face. Why won't this voice go away? Before I have time to react the voice has gained control of my body. Pushing away the people and the things I love. Grades dropping, friends missing, body numb and the happy girl I once was trapped inside. Her desperate cries of help constantly being drowned out by the voice's lies. Saying, "Take this pill, go to sleep, you'll feel better when you're gone." I do as I'm told, pulling the blanket over my head ready to join the land of the dead. "You failed," the voice whispers everytime I wake up still alive. "Why are you acting like this? What's wrong?" my parents ask worriedly, trying to shake the life back into my empty body. I opened my mouth but the voice spoke for me, "You don't need to be scared, there's nothing to worry about."