Voice

                He's never home, ever. He works two minimum wage jobs just to pay the never ending bills and support his three young children. Instead of feeding his children he blows everything, he has a gambling problem that he can no longer manage. He didn't know but he was killing his children, a slow painful death. He used to feed them little to nothing at all when he only bought alcohol to feed his poisoning addiction. He's a recovering alcoholic. He had dropped everything with any kind of liquor. He couldn't stand looking at alcohol after his wife died. He had killed her, he didn't mean to it just happened.

" You shouldn't had gone behind the wheel that night, it was all your fault if you had just been sober you wouldn't have sent your wife six feet under." 

He tells him such every night before bed, blaming himself for her rotting body. Everyone accuses him for his wife's death, everyone knows but they're too scared to confront him, all they do is watch. They know the angry abusive alcoholic you used to be. He hates himself, contemplates suicide every day, although never completes the job because of his kids. He wants to tear his skin off but something, something inside is keeping him alive. Guilt perhaps? His children constantly remind him of his dead lifeless wife. Every night he sees her face in the bathtub of used disgusting water, probably contaminated. He sees her face in every rinse. Every waking moment of his life is filled with terror and guilt of killing her. He rarely gets any sleep because his thoughts never let him. He held the gun to his head he's going to do it he can't live on... but then the youngest walks in ...

 "Do it dad you deserve it." 

But he knows it's his drunk self trying to trick him.....Trying to kill him... The alcohol was poison but his mind was the real poison the one that made his skin unbearable and the one that one day will end his life. He doesn't know what is real anymore. Is he real? Is the world real? He is going insane or was he insane from the moment he laid his lips on vodka? Is his life a made up fairy tale however screwed up, to help him cope with life? Was the memory of killing his wife something his mind made up for the sake of keeping him alive from the guilt? 

He woke up that next morning no longer able to cope.. he picked up the rifle.. Pulled the trigger... only to find it was empty. The universe wants him to suffer.

 He never had a wife, or three kids, he's alone in a made up world. After the suicide attempt he woke up and when he woke up he realized everything was gone 

"Where are my kids??" He shouted "What have I done!"...

 Everything.. 

He imagined his kids playing, then their faces faded out into corpses. He had killed more innocent children. Did he kill his own? Or innocent children who have mommy's and daddy's that love them... He couldn't take watching other kids be loved and him not knowing how to love. He shot each child with 2 bullets in the head and one in the gut. His mind tells him that they are his own, but how can he trust even himself anymore. He doesn't know anymore he never knew. He starts to bleed out of his eyes... His brain is frying. He's sick, his infection is killing him. Or was it all in his head? That's what he wanted to believe but he knew he wasn't dying. The world won't let him die. After all he was the one who let his imagination get the best of him. All he does is dream of a world without him. He feels himself dying, but knowing it will never come, although he waits. A frantically annoying sound is coming from afar.

 "What is that weird muffled sound?"

*Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!*

In a rhythm

He opens his eyes wide only to find himself in a 15 year olds body...

"6:30 AM??? Why am I moving???? Why am I trapped inside a 15 year olds mind unable to control the body? What is going on!?"

He's panicking; he realized he never was anything. He lived inside a little boys mind to just awake now. He realized he can control the boy's thoughts.

He chants, "You're worthless" Over and over again "Get the knife"

The boy picks up the knife.

"Now"

The boy pierced his heart with the knife. He cuts through his flesh instantly regretting everything but that voice kept going... As if it had been enjoying it ... laughter filled his ears... he lost ... and death won. He finally gets what he always thrived for.