Well... Ain't That Something (Sandra Alva)

Mental Health.

"When I was younger, I started developing mental illnesses. My parents saw that something was wrong. I wasn't eating as much as I used to. Which is weird because I fucking love food." I casually answer the interviewer's question. My manager had set up an interview for me. It was about me. The interviewer had asked me if I had any mental health issues and if not what was my opinion on mental health. I continue with my answer "I wasn't talking as much as I used to. I was loud and talkative. I was always locked up in my room. My parents took me to the doctor and recommended I'd see a psychiatrist. Of course I didn't want to but I was forced to go. I talked to the doctor and he diagnosed me with Schizophrenia, OCD, Claustrophobia,  Depression, Suicidal tendencies, and ADHD. My opinion on Mental Health is a serious thing. It's just as dangerous as physical health. It exists whether you believe it or not." I answer the interviewer, while trying to be strong as I can hear my voice cracking. Mental health was always a sensitive topic for me.

"Wow, okay. How bad is your Schizophrenia?" The interviewer asks me.

"It's bad, but not so bad that I have to go to a mental hospital. Everyday I always hear voices, whispers like someone is talking about me behind my back. The voices they always tell me I can't always be this strong. Breaking & Entering by Tonight Alive is actually one of the songs I can relate to because in the song Jenna McDougall sings 'The voices are telling me I just can't always be this strong.' and it-" My voice cracks badly. "I'm sorry." I laugh. "It gets to me."

There's a short silence.

"That's all the questions I have. Thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to answer these questions." The interviewer sticks out his hands for a handshake. I take his hand shake it.

"No problem!" I say smiling.

After the interview. I try to find Sandra and get her to talk to me. However before I could find her, I hear a voice.

"Pathetic piece of shit." The voice tells me. This voice it sounds demonic. Like it's filled with hatred for me.

"Shut up." I say to myself.

"No, I don't like you and neither does anyone around you. Nobody loves you. Everyone wants you to burn. To die. Including your fans." The demonic voice tells me with burning passion of hatred for me.

"S-sh-shut up." I say to myself again. I can feel tears swell in my eyes. "Shut up shut up shut up" I yell.

"Haha so weak. Do you know no one loves you? Not even Sandra. She hates you because you're so weak. You're weak. WEAK."

"Shut up, SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I bang my head on the wall next to me. Blood trickling down my forehead. "Shut up" I repeat over and over, yelling at the top of my lungs. Blood now trickling down my nose.

"Woah! hey! HEY! MARRI ARE YOU OKAY?!" I hear a rough female voice yell at me.

"MARRI!" was the last thing I heard before blacking out.