Voices

The Beginning of the End

        "You're going and that's final."

        Typical Dad. Always thinking he has the final say. Son you're doing this and that'ts final. Son you're going here and that's final. Son you're living with me and that's final. Well you know what, Dad? Fuck you.

        "No, I don't think I am going, Dad," I say, folding my arms across my chest.

        "Don't you dare back talk me, Conrad, I've already got this set up with the doctors. Coldwater is exactly what you need."

        No he doesn't mean the wet stuff you find out in nature. He means Coldwater Correctional Facility for Teens. He thinks I'm crazy. Or maybe he doesn't and he's just sending me off as an excuse to get rid of me. Either way he's trying unsuccessfully to force me into the car so we can go. No dice.

        "Dad, I've told you a thousand times I'm not crazy!" I yell.

        "Well you know what, Son?! People don't just hear voices in their heads and turn out just fine and dandy. You're going."

        I try never to get emotional around dear old Dad. He tends to take that the wrong way. But dammit when he doesn't listen to me I just get so frustrated. Like now.

        I feel the tears start to form as I yell at him. "Dad, you can't do this to me!" Lie. I knew he could and would send his only son to a loony bin.

        "What else am I supposed to do! Huh? This situation isn't normal. You're not normal."

        It is like a slap to the face when he says that. And then he really does slap me. I'd be lying if I said it hurt. Nothing fazes me anymore. He made sure of that a long time ago.

        "Thanks, Dad, I loved that," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

        "You bring this upon yourself, Conrad," he replies shaking his hand. I don't have a pudgy little boy face anymore. That shit hurts him more than it hurts me.

        "Like I said though I'm not going to that god awful place," I snarl whil backing away from him.

        "Well  son I hate to say it but you don't have a choice in this matter."

        "Wha-" I start to say but immediatly stop when I feel a sharp pain in my neck. I collapse to my knees trying to feel for the object that stabbed me and in return get a sharp blow to my temple causing me to slump to the ground.

        "Thanks Raoul," I hear my dad say though it's very muffled, "I don't know how I would've done this without you."

        I've just been drugged. The stupid prick.