Sang, Interrupted

1

My eyes lazily watch the sunrise, barley blinking as the colors change. I can't hear anything in the house below me, but that's not unusual. Sometimes, when I'm sucked into a memory or a vision, I lose time. Sometimes it's only minutes, sometimes it close to an hour.

The doctors say I have Schizophrenia, some told me they're delusions.

Personally, I don't know what to believe. They can't possible be real, nine men with memories and thoughts all jumbled up inside of one small brain like my own? It isn't possible, couldn't be, shouldn't be!

I ignore my musings as I get dressed for the first day of school, a black circle skirt and pale grey button up. I eyed the little scattering of scars I had along my knees, small white scraps that practically looked like the glass and rice she forced me to kneel in.

On my chest, right above my breast sat a small circle with a heart perfectly centered. Splotches of color decorated it, a few colored outside of the lines, some meticulously inside the circle. My fingers traced over it before I finished buttoning up my shirt, already missing the hum that came from it.

As soon as I took my pill, the hum would be gone.

My blonde hair tumbled around me before I quickly pull it back with a clip, not bothering to look at myself in the mirror as I pass by. My hands twitched at my sides as I walked down the stairs, trying to press my feet as light as I could so mother wouldn't hear me. Somehow, she always found a way to find me though.

I didn't want a pill today, but I knew I would get one. I hadn't gone without one in years, ever since I first spoke about the boys. My mother and father thought they were just imaginary friends at first, but as I got older and still was adamant about seeing them they brought me to a doctor.

Schizophrenia with delusions, both auditory and visionary is what they told me. It didn't matter that I could do other things besides see those boys, that I could move things with my mind and set things on fire, that I had so many different powers. It was never just the visions, although that's all I ever told them about.

I knew being able to bend metal with just your mind wasn't normal.

I'm not sure what they told my parents, but I know it changed everything. Maybe it was the fact I saw the boys entire lives, when they were beaten down and when they were hurt. The weird awkward moments I wish my body would shut me out of, like puberty, and the awful moments like one of their first kisses.

Poor Sean.

After that, my mother changed. She became volatile, filled with rage over the men I saw and began shoving medication after medication down both her and my own throat. She told me I would be raped by every men I saw, that I would killed and have my throat slit before being dumped on the side of the road.

I didn't believe her.

I saw these men, these boys in my head. They were so wonderful, providing care and support to as many as they could while creating a family within themselves. They helped as many as they could, saving the lives of children that truly needed them. The visions started when I was about six, about twelve years ago now.

The only saving grace I had was that my pills eventually wore off around noon, so I would lose the zombie they made me become. I got my visions back at night, and spent most nights just cuddled in my own bed listening to my beat up stereo, while watching them. All nine of them, I truly loved them.

Even if they weren't real.

My father just took the news and left. He became some type of business man that was never home, ignoring my mothers actions and choosing instead to use the excuse of the added expenditures my medication cause to work more. It made my mother mad, every time he leaves she turns around and takes it right out on me.