Delusional Warmth [BxB]

Scene 1: Take 1

     I, Leif Maddox, 17, was born a mistake. A mistake that should have been eradicated.

Most people call it God's will, Heaven's wish, luck, even a miracle. I prefer to call it a curse, just another form of punishment granted upon me. If anything, my living is a punishment from hell.

I'd have preferred to have never been born, to have died then; while heaven's gates still welcomed me. Surely by now though what awaited me after my living hell was hell itself.

From the moment the doctor handed my newborn self to my Mother she had looked at me with resent and hatred. Almost as if I had placed myself inside of her, and that this had been all my fault, not hers.

Once released from the hospital my Mother brought me back to her and my Father's small run down apartment, and had left me sitting on the sofa, leaving me to my own devices while she went off somewhere in the building to have sex.

Of course they learned from their first mistake; me, and made sure this  time to use a condon.

And then when I first learned to speak I was told my first word was "filthy", and that my Father and Mother gave me pure looks of disgust at the thought of my first words not being of them.

Then I finally started school at age 7, grade K1, 3 years late into my education. It had taken three years of arguing and complaining from my parents to authorities that school was too expensive and that I didn't need it before they were finally forced. Although I would have liked it better if they hadn't listened and had Child Abuse authorities take me away.

Only a short while into my first year of school and I had no friends, nor even someone to bully me. I guess I gave off an air that scared the other kids, especially since I was older. So I spent my half days of school with no one but my own thoughts to talk to.

Shortly after when I had returned home one day from school my teacher, Ms. Clemines called and suggested to my parents to work on homework with me everyday after school. Once the phone call was finished my mother immediately struck out at me with her words, calling me an idiot child for needing help with simple homework. As my mother's abusive words trailed in the background my father stomped up to me and slapped me hard in the cheek, sending me back a little ways.

Shortly after that incident the abuse became routine, and as I grew older the guilt they felt for me lessened into almost nothing.

And somewhere inbetween my time alone, locked in my bedroom by my parents to think of my actions, I truly realised how alone I was. That I had no one to talk to, and no one who would listen.

So desperately I came up with Lazslo, my; at the time harmful imaginary friend. Even though deep down I knew I was only talking to myself it felt real to me. Lazslo was like a crutch to my broken heart; using his words to lift me up again and relieve some of my pain.

But Lazslo was only apart of my imagination, and when the abuse intensified and the hate grew, in the end it was too much and something somewhere inside of me snapped.

And at age 9 my imaginary friend Lazslo had become more real, almost as if he had grown a conscious of his own. Instead of his usual encouragement his words too turned into abuse.

Worse than his words, I could clearly see him most of the time, a wicked grin upon his face as he stood towering above me. It felt too real. And not only could I see and hear him, I could feel the pain he inflicted on me. If he slapped me I felt it, if he stabbed me I felt it, I felt it all.

Thats when I developed Schizophrenia, and that's when my mind became my inescapable prison.