Isabelle opened her eyes, and was greeted by morning sunshine. Something must have awoken her, because she sure is a heavy sleeper, and barely anything wakes her up, unless her mom takes away her warm sheets and hollers at her.
It must've been the voice inside her head.
"Hey, wake up. I'm bored. Play with me, will you?" The voice said.
"It's only 11:00 A.M. I'm going to sleep. Will you ever, in your lifetime, leave me alone?" Isabelle was clearly annoyed by this point; she could explode any second.
"Woah, there. I'm just trying to be friendly. All these years that I've been talking to you, and you're still worried that I might be an ax-murderer or a rapist or something?" He laughed.
Isabelle rolled her eyes and ignored what the voice was trying to say. It was hard, but being stuck with this voice and his comments for 17 years? You get used to it.
She did her normal routine: washing her face, brushing her teeth, greeting her family members, and eating her breakfast and having a small jog around the neighborhood. When she came back, she was panting and sweating and extremely tired; she wanted to write in her journal, but she just plopped on the table in front of her dad, where he was sipping on his coffee reading the papers.
"So, how are you doing these days, Isabelle?" He asked, sipping on his coffee, and his eyes still fixed on the paper. "I've never seen you around downstairs." He put his coffee mug down, and he went back to reading.
"I-"She hesitated, trying to make up a lie that her dad will believe. "Well I've been working on my Math, no, Science project. That's right, Science project. Why, I've been working hard! I'm almost done with it. I promise, dad, if I finish this, I'll try to spend more time with you." She quickly finished the sentence and grabbed a piece of bread, and stuffed it into her mouth.
Mr. Jackson raised his eyebrows and stared at her as if he was saying: It's a little suspicious, but I will believe you this time.
Isabelle felt very uncomfortable and got up, the bread still in her mouth, and went upstairs to her room. She was certain that her dad knew that she was lying, but she can't say that she had two voices in her head and she was going crazy, can't she?
She went upstairs and swallowed her bread down, and sat on her desk chair, and opened her journal and tried to look for a pencil. While she was doing that, she had a little chat with the voice inside.
"You're bad at lying, aren't you?" He chuckled.
"I"m just an honest person." She said. She tried to make this conversation short because she wanted to write in her journal already and write, because she had more things to talk about, and wanted to jot down her thoughts.
"Whatever you say. And really? You're writing in a journal? You know, you can talk to me." He stated, as if saying the obvious.
"Words can be forgotten but writing cannot." She said, and she now started to ignore him.
2014.12.22
I wonder where the voice belongs to, or whom it belongs to. I first thought that it was my own voice, but I figured it wasn't. If it were mine, I would be able to control it, or something similar, so it means that it belongs to someone else.
But who? We still don't have the technology to hack into someone else's brain, do we? Or is this some kind of undiscovered ability of a human brain? Does that mean that someone in this world can use 100% of their brain? Maybe that's a possible answer, but for now, it's unrealistic. It will never happen.
It's driving me mad and I am dying to know whose voice this is. I am dying to know why I can hear his voice. Maybe if I ask the voice, maybe if I ask him nicely, he will give me the answer. Maybe he can tell me who he is and we can meet together. Maybe there's a potential that we will fall in love. Maybe.
Maybe, it's all fake. Maybe it's just I'm going crazy and I'm not aware of it. Maybe someone really hacked into my brain. Maybe I'm just a pathetic 17-year-old girl, who doesn't have a life. Maybe.
I want to ask the person, but I'm not too sure if I can trust him. Sure, I've heard his voice and had a little chat ususally to tell him to shut the hell up and mind your own business, but can I really trust him? Can I really trust him enough so that I can tell him what's up and rely on him?
I don't think the time has come, yet.
For now, he's just a stranger who somehow found a way to my brain, and who's just messing with me.
YOU ARE READING
Correspondence(On Hold)
Fiksi PenggemarIsabelle is just a normal 17 year old. Okay, maybe she's not normal. She has a big secret that nobody knows about, a secret that she'll never talk about: she has two voices inside her head, one is her own, and the other; she doesn't know. As she wri...