He was shy, and very quiet for an 18 year old. He kept his thoughts to himself because if he revealed what was wrong nobody would understand.
"It's all in your head," people would say. "Get over it."
Get over it? He has tried. You just can't get over something that is burned into your head. His mind plays games on him. Voices, shadows and people appear. He screams. Everyone knows he is fucked up.
When he gets home he struggles the most. His demons swallow him whole and turn his thoughts against him.
"Do it," a voice said. "Do it, nobody will miss you."
He runs downstairs to the medicine cabinet and grabs as many pills as he can find. He goes back into his chamber and paints once again on his broken canvas with blood and a sharp blade. He throws his head back and swallows these unknown pills by the handful. He lays there cold on the floor, shaking, and screaming. The screaming fades into a ringing noise. Yeah, I guess you can say it was all in his head.
