I'm Not Crazy

~2~ Shock

They put me in the hospital for nerves,  
and then they had to commit me.  
You told them all I was crazy,  
they cut off my legs now I am an amputee...  ...goddamn you! 
I'm not sick ...but I'm not well.
I'm so hot cause I'm in Hell.

Paranoia ~ Harvey Danger  

🙃🙃🙃

10:47 AM

I'm still very alone in the dark, desperately trying to claw my way back to the light. My sense of self is so sideways now, that I have lost all track of time. I have no idea how long my body has been laying in the nurse's office. I've heard the bells ring, followed by the standard cacophony of noise down the halls.

The laughter and peels of giggles, followed by lockers slamming shut ...which feel like gunshots into my heart. Then more bells and more lockers slamming shut and more pain. A few harsh words are barked by teachers, "No running! Go to class!" As if somehow these two things were mutually exclusive?

I know somewhere in my head that people are talking about me. Or it might be just my paranoia kicking in? But I swear I can almost make out the echoes of conversations taking place somewhere in the darkness beyond me. But the hissing voices sound so far away in the shadows, I can barely hear what they are saying about me, even though they are right in front of me in the dark.

The sounds are all so very confusing and jumbled in my head, and it's way too hard to keep track of all the words at once. The echoes of things spoken carom around the walls of my mind, and combine into a mishmash of nonsensical noise. So I just let all the echoes swirl around me, picking out only the nice ones I want to keep. Trying to thread them together like strings of pearls, so they maybe will make sense to me someday.

"I called her mother's work and cell numbers, but she wasn't in her office. But I left a message." Principal March snippy snaps at her minions. 

There is a small part of me that feels guilty to my mom for the trouble I'm causing. But it's a very very small part, because after all, we are such good friends.

"You do know that she's a McCrazy, right?" Someone starts telling lies about me.

"No, I didn't realize that?" Immediately followed by yet another mean snapping snort of derision. "Well, that certainly explains several things about her behavior today."

"I can always call Buddy?" The Nice Nurse suggests a not so nice solution. "We go back a ways."

"Then on that note, I'll leave it up to you to keep me informed as to what happens with this situation. Whenever our good sheriff decides to grace us with his presence and arrive on the scene." March marches away. "Great another psychotic McCrazy kid to deal with? Well isn't that just lovely?"

"But I'm not a McCrazy, I'm an O'Reilly!" I want to scream into their faces. But the screams are trapped deep inside me, behind all the feral fear and the primal pain.

When those echoes finally die out, I hear the noise of the Nice Nurse arguing with someone else. Someone who sorta sounds like Stevie, my soon to be step-brother from hell? At least, I think it might be Stevie? But only because his tone of voice tends to whine in a higher pitch when he is upset. Not unlike a whiny gerbil huffing on helium.

Another set of bells go off, more lockers slamming, less laughter, more whispers. A pair of sneakered feet squeaking down the tiles as they run away. It is oppressively silent after a while, like the still silence just before an angry storm breaks the sky.