Castaway || mgc

10

misfit

i force myself to get out of bed and put clothes on. i don't care if i haven't showered for two days, nor do i care about wearing the same shirt i had worn yesterday.

everything in my life has been misplaced and unorganized. it seems like i'm such a total misfit, which i literally am.

"where are you going, clifford?" the same voice is heard again and i don't have to turn to know that she's sitting on my couch—again.

her clothes don't change, her small backpack is still there and i believe the ipod and headphones she has with her aren't real either.

"if i know better, i think you might be on your way to sign yourself into a mental institution." she taps her chin, "you're taking my advice?"

i get a grip of myself once those words leave her mouth. what am i doing? i'm not crazy. she can't put me in there!

"oh, but yes i can, michael."

i glare at her and dart for the keys left on the coffee table before rushing out the door. i scramble down the stairs of the apartment building and out into public.

"now, you can't." i mumble to myself, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans.

"watch me." she says, appearing out of nowhere as she stands in the middle of the morning joggers.

just then, her voice grows louder in my head even though she's nowhere to be seen now.

you're not worth it, clifford. you're a misfit here. you'll fit in with your friends in the mad house; i promise...

"make it stop!" i groan out loud, growling in the middle of the street as my hands clutch my head and my nails dig into my scalp.

"you can never challenge me, michael." she stands before me and i am apparently on the ground, my forehead pressed onto the cold pavement.

i can hear her laugh, but i can also feel arms grabbing me. i can't see anything else. everything's a blur.

"i'm gonna put you back in your place now, michael." her voice rings in my head again and i yelp in pain. "i'm gonna send you back to your real home."