My Little Creations//Short Stories

The Voice Inside My Head

I didn't have the best childhood. It was filled with broken hearts, abuse and loneliness. I lost my parents at the age of five in a robbery at our store. It was in July just as we were closing up for the night, I was in the storeroom with my father restocking shelves when we both heard a loud bang followed by my mum's shriek from outside of the room. We dropped what we were doing and ran out to the sight of my mother lying lifeless on the wooden floor, blood pouring out of her chest. I tried to run to my mother but the voice inside my head tried to stop me.

~No, don't move, the man is dangerous~

I ignored the voice and ran to my mother; the second I moved another bang was heard from the gun. Immediately I knew I should have listened. As pain shot through my shoulder I fell to the ground, and there I lay, in pain next to my mother's still body as the man shot my father as well while he tried to help me. The man took our money and left us to die.

The next morning I woke up in hospital with the news that both of my parents were killed that night, I was an orphan. Those next few weeks were very chaotic, the event of that night running through my head. The man's face invades my dreams; the bang of the gun wakes me up. The hassle of finding me a new home in an orphanage as I now had no family left also put a lot of pressure and stress on me. A five year old should not have had to go through with that. After three weeks of searching they found me a home at 'Sweet Hearts Orphanage'. I thought that going there would be a lot of fun but I soon discovered that my trauma had gotten to the point that any sound that resembled a gunshot had me on the ground crying out for help. The other kids in the home thought I was crazy and stayed away from me, excluding me from their activities. Some of the kids pushed and shoved me into the ground in the hallways, calling me names. Some of them banged pots and pans just to set me off. I learnt to stay in my room where it was safe even though I had no friends, but instead I learnt to make friends with the voice in my head. It warned me when danger was near or gave me advice, but sometimes it was wrong, and on the night of my parent's killing I wish I would have listened. Maybe, just maybe, I would have been in a happy home with someone who actually cared about me. The voice never really helped with that fact either, everyday it reminded me.

~You should have listened, it's your own fault that you're here in this situation in the first place~

When I was seven my problems had still not gone away. The man's face, the gun and my parents lying dead on the ground next to me were still invading my thoughts, but there was news in the home that a family was coming to adopt someone. We were told to be on our best behavior and wear our best clothing. Normally I would have stayed in my room and not bother, but this time I had a feeling it might be my chance. I would have still gone even if the voice objected but funnily enough it was silent. I wore my red dress with my small Mary-Janes, my small short curly blonde hair in pigtails. When the family arrived the matron lined us all up in order of age, but everyone chose to not go anywhere near me. The family walked along the line talking amongst themselves. They got to the most popular girl in the home, Amelia the one everyone loved and adored with her perfect ginger hair which contrasted with her pale freckled skin. They stayed there in front of her and had a little conversation with her. I thought I wasn't going to get adopted that day. I was broken and crazy, like the other kids said.

"No! I want a brother!" The family's son screamed as he ran out of the home with a crash of the door behind him. This caused another one of my break downs.

The matron ran over to me to help and calm me down, she cradled me in her arms. The father ran after his son and the mother came over to me. I held tight on the matron's shirt in fear as she calmed me down. She explained to the mother what my condition was and what caused my attacks.

"Hello, I'm Elizabeth, what's your name?" She asked with her soft soothing voice

"Um, Mikala" I said nervously, letting go of the matrons shirt and slowly moving out of her arms.

"Wow such a pretty name, it suits you" She smiled fixing up my collar "You are a very cute girl, you know that?"

~Careful, she might be nice but she could be just like the others~

I shook my head telling the voice to go away but also unintentionally answering the lady's question. She stood up and went over to the front desk to meet with her family who had just come back inside. They gestured the matron and signed some papers.

"You may all return to your afternoon activities, except Mikala" The matron ordered

The kids filed out of the room and left me standing in the developing stillness, with the small family staring at me. I shuffled my feet in nervousness and to break the silence. They walk over to me.

"I would like to introduce you to your new family Mikala" the matron smiled at me, encouraging me to go closer but the voice inside my head wouldn't stop disagreeing.

~Mikala you mustn't, they are bad people, LISTEN TO ME~

But once again I didn't listen to the voice when I should have. I took a hold of my new mothers hand and went with my family, from that moment my life became worse by the second.

*****

Hiya my little Charmaniacs, so this little piece was an English assignment where we had to take a technique from another author and use it, so I chose Markus Zusak "Book Thief". I have thought about continuing it but I'm not sure but i hope you enjoyed it.

~Charlizard <3