The headaches started after that day. At first, I brushed them off as nothing serious—just the kind of pain that comes and goes, like a bruise that fades over time. But as the days turned into weeks, I realized they were anything but fleeting. The dull ache that began at the back of my head never seemed to let up; it only grew more intense. Each time I tried to concentrate on anything—homework, conversations, even simple tasks—the pain would crescendo until my vision blurred and the world around me became a hazy fog.
It wasn’t just the pain that haunted me, though. It was the noise.
I’d find myself sitting alone, lost in thought, when I’d start to hear things—faint whispers, like someone was talking behind me, but when I turned around, there was only silence. At first, it was quiet, barely noticeable, a soft murmur just on the edges of my consciousness. But as the days passed, the whispers grew louder, echoing in my mind like a distant conversation I couldn’t quite grasp. They were just sounds, for now—unintelligible, fleeting echoes that made it impossible to concentrate.
School was the worst. I’d sit at my desk, surrounded by classmates who were focused on their work, and yet I felt more isolated than ever. I would strain to pay attention to the teacher, who was droning on about algebra, but right next to my ear was the unmistakable hum of a voice, one that no one else seemed to hear. My heart would race as I glanced around the room, searching for the source of the noise, but everyone else was absorbed in their assignments, oblivious to my growing distress.
I never mentioned it to anyone. Not Mama, not Daddy, not Glamma. I could already imagine their reactions: concern etched on their faces, followed by a look of skepticism. They wouldn’t understand. They’d just think I was being dramatic, or worse, that I was losing my mind. But I wasn’t losing my mind—I couldn’t be. I was simply… experiencing something strange, something beyond my control.
As the days wore on, the headaches became a constant companion, each throb accompanied by those incessant whispers. And at night, when the world around me quieted, the noise intensified. Lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, I would try to will myself to sleep, but the whispers would return, more insistent than ever. They morphed from vague sounds into nearly coherent voices, teasing my consciousness, just out of reach.
I’d shut my eyes tight, pressing my palms against my ears, but it never worked. The whispers danced through the barriers I tried to construct, seeping in and wrapping around my thoughts. I was trapped in a soundless scream, helpless against the tide of confusion that threatened to drown me. I didn’t know where they were coming from or why they wouldn’t stop, but ignoring them became impossible.
As the nights dragged on, I began to feel an eerie presence, a weight in the air that signified I wasn’t truly alone, even when I was. It was a suffocating sensation, like someone was lurking just beyond my field of vision, waiting for me to acknowledge them. Shadows darted in the periphery of my sight, ephemeral shapes that vanished the moment I turned my head to investigate.
“Just the darkness playing tricks on me,” I would mutter to myself, trying to shake off the growing paranoia that clung to my thoughts. But deep down, I knew something was wrong—far more than I could articulate. I tried to convince myself that the headaches were merely a figment of my imagination, a symptom of stress or fatigue, but with every whisper, every shadow that flitted past, I felt the knot of fear tighten in my stomach.
I started to dread the nighttime rituals of brushing my teeth and slipping beneath the covers, knowing that once I turned off the light, I would be left alone with my thoughts and the whispers that had become a sinister lullaby. No longer did the nighttime hold the promise of restful sleep; it was a battleground of uncertainty, where reality and nightmares blurred into one.
And yet, even as I wrestled with this growing dread, a part of me was curious about the voices. Who were they? What did they want? But the fear of acknowledging their existence kept me silent, trapped in my own head, drowning in uncertainty. I felt like a fragile vessel adrift in a stormy sea, longing for solid ground, yet knowing that nothing was as it seemed.
I just didn’t know what was happening to me.
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Crazy In Love
Fanfiction"Crazy in Love" follows Amira, a girl from Chicago who has always been the favored child in her family, overshadowing her troubled older brother. As a toddler, she narrowly escaped several violent incidents instigated by him, leaving lasting scars o...
