Okay, so this chapter was very hard for me to write. Not only is the event still sad for me to remember, but I also decided to share something about myself that is not easy for me to admit. My mind...really is something else. I just hope that whoever reads this will not change their perspective on me. But hey, this is who I am. Anyway, here's chapter 14.
I wanted to scream at them. I wanted to yell at them for saying that I am always in the wrong and that even if others do something bad, I am still at fault for even being near it. They made me feel as if everything was my fault. They made me feel as if I was nothing more than a bully or someone who cannot do anything right.
I started to shake. I had to cling onto the bottom of the bench in order to keep myself steady. My anxiety has always been a problem for me, but what they were doing to me in the moment was tearing me apart from the inside.
I have schizophrenia and one of the symptoms that I unfortunately have is that I can hear voices in my head. I don't know how many are there, but they are there even though I wish they never existed. My point in bringing this up is because when I start to lose myself, the voices take the opportunity to speak through me and use me as their puppet.
And that is exactly what they did.
Aristotle and him knew about my mind state and didn't care that they were bringing the voices out. I was telling them to leave me alone. That I didn't want to talk to them anymore, but they stayed and kept expecting me to hear them out. Aristotle tried to get directly in front of me, but I told him to stay away.
The voices told them to leave me alone too. They told them that I was not at fault and that they need to stop causing a scene.
They wouldn't leave me alone until my brother arrived.
I remember that I wasn't able to speak. The voices were still using me as their puppet and I let them use me for as long as they wanted. After I felt like myself again, I texted Kassandra and told her everything that happened.
Kassandra was in shock and apologized for everything they were putting me through. I told her that it wasn't her fault and that I just hated them more than words can say. I didn't want to go back to school. I didn't want to be around anyone. I didn't want to see Aristotle and him ever again and if one thing was absolutely certain, then it was the fact that I didn't want to live.
Later into the night, I got a message from Aristotle. Aristotle and I talked about what happened, but I was mostly dry when my messages; only responded in one word or one sentence. I can't remember our conversation. All I know is that we never texted after that and I avoided Aristotle with all my power. I couldn't say that I hated him at the time, even though I can easily say that now, but I absolutely knew I didn't want to speak to him or see him.
I stayed home for two days due to my weak mental and physical state.
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The Devil's Trap
Non-FictionThis is not a story or a book about fictional events. Everything that I wrote in this is true. When I was a Sophomore, I was friends with a certain boy who became one of the people I hate the most. Everything he did to me, everything he said to me...
