Bipolar Disorder

Part 1

   We all have something wrong, right?
   "No, just you."
   No one can be perfect, right?
   "Wrong, and it's not you."
   Well what's wrong with me?
   "A lot," a small indistinct voice said. This small voice is the annoying voice in my head. He likes to make me think bad things, he isn't good. I honestly don't like him. I hate him so much. And he never ever goes away. He is like the little imaginary devil that is constantly sitting on my shoulder. "U are so screwed-"
   His voice trailed off suddenly when there was a banging on the front door. I ran out of my room and reached the front door. I unlocked and opened the door to my dad standing there with both hands full of grocery bags. "Why didn't you come help me when I first pulled in!"
   "I - I didn't hear you pull in"
   "Whatever. Go get the rest!" He was in his bad mood. He does this often. It scares me, makes me nervous.
   I rushed outside and stepped down, but suddenly my foot slipped out from underneath me. I hit my forehead on the step and it started pouring blood.
   "Are you okay?" Dad hollered at me.
   "I will be okay, just a little scratch." He came out the door and saw the gash in my head pouring blood. He took his bare hand and wiped away the blood, to examine it. It stung like hell. I jerked away.
   "Quite moving!" He stared at me and grabbed my chin. I just wanted him to let me go.
   "You will be okay," he said. Walked back inside and hollered, "now hurry up with those groceries, they are going to ruin."
   I rushed. I quickly stood up, probably too quickly. Everything suddenly turned black...