Unfinished Fanfics and Original Stories/ideas

Voices in my Mind: Chapter 1

Hello, my name is Anthony Quarinto. Age 16, grade 10. And I have declared myself mentally insane. I thought somewhat depressingly as I stared at my shirtless self in the full body-length mirror in my dim-lit room. "Well, less insane than those in an insane asylum," I added aloud.

You're less insane than a psychopath. Annabeth said matter-of-factly.

Plus, you don't have mind-reading powers. Moonwatcher said.

You also don't have warring families constantly fighting over you. Eliot added darkly.

None of you guys are really helping. Todoroki's voice echoed slightly, meaning he was somewhere far away from the others.

I sigh. Yep, I have four different people who basically live in my head. They made their appearance somewhere at the beginning of last year... though I started having this same damn nightmare since some time at the start of this year. Having it for the past few months now gives little hope for an actual good night's rest again.

I don't understand this recurring dream of dark thoughts. I told my mom about it the first time it happened. She said my mind was very creative that night and I should worry about it as each dream is unique and happens only once or twice in a lifetime. But then it appeared again and again. I have a feeling it's connected to something, but I don't really have a good clue as to what.

The only thing I can think of is that it started the night I broke up with my boyfriend. I had to end it; I could keep having fake romantic feelings for him. Later, he decided to cut off every way to contact him; I wanted to still be friends, but he didn't. He even accused me of getting close to someone else when all I was doing that day was having a Dungeons and Dragons game with a few other people. The nerve the boy had, accusing me of basically 'cheating' on him when to this day I still think of him. I don't really know why I do... But I do.

You could probably imagine what I look like, I guess. Okay, maybe not. My face looks like any standard male teen's face. Dark brown eyes with dark circles (from the months of little sleep), accompanied with dark thick eyebrows (A relative has said they look 'nice', I don't know whether to take it as a compliment or an insult). My eyes were also slightly red-rimmed, from waking up screaming and even crying a little. The dream has really gotten to me. Acne sprinkling my forehead, half of it hidden by my naturally dry, dark curly hair. I am slightly taller than the average male height. My skin was pale, but it's not an unhealthy pale. There are dark freckles here and there on my body and lighter freckles dotted the back of my hands. Since I don't work out or hate doing any physical activity in general, I don't have a muscular figure and I got a bit of flab. You might not like it, but it's my body and you can't change that.

I looked at myself in the mirror, holding my uniform shirt, a classic white button-up with the school logo on the left breast. I squinted a little, wondering why I was a little blurry. Then, I realized I didn't have my glasses on. What? I'm tired. My brain works slow and can do one thing at a time in the morning. I put on the button-up, changed my PJ boxers into khaki pants, put on my glasses, and yawned as I left my room.

I looked toward the bathroom. The door was closed as always because of our family cat, but the light was on. My younger sister was in there. She was only a couple of years younger than I was, but she definitely acts older. Sometimes, it feels like I have two mothers. I walk to the kitchen and stopped in front of the mini table cabinet where the cereal and English muffins were.

My body and I were not agreeing with each other. My stomach, despite being empty, wanted to mess with me and was teasing to throw up. Stupid morning anorexia nervosa. My chest hurt a bit and it hurt to breathe; I totally need to have an internal anxiety attack today. I kept saying to myself there was nothing to worry about and today was going to be fun.

I sighed in defeat, grabbing the plain English muffins; my body won this battle. I grab one, tying the package and putting it back, grabbed a spreader, and started scraping the bottom of the muffin. My mom, sister, and I all did this, scraping the grainy stuff off the bottom into the trash. After I got all that I could off, I cut it in half and stuck the halves into the toaster. While I was waiting, I grabbed a paper towel, folded it in half, and placed it on the small area in front of the microwave. I know this is annoying for my mom and sister, but I claimed it as my "prep area". I grabbed the butter out of the fridge, which was next to the microwave. I waited for the English muffin to finish and when it did, I placed the two halves on the folded paper towel and spread a thin layer of butter on it.

I walked to the living room, sat at one end of the coffee table, and started eating. Halfway through eating one of the muffin halves, my sister, Vanessa, comes out of the bathroom. She was also wearing a white button-up shirt and a dull red plaid skirt. Her reading glasses were tucked into the breast pocket opposite of the school crest. She had our mother's eyes, light hazel-ish irises. To me, looks like green eyes with a light brown outer ring, but hazel is more accurate. She has a dark freckle a bit below her right eye. Her dark hair flowed down her head, stopping a few centimeters below her shoulders. I think she straightened it today. I thought. Both our hair is naturally curly, mine more so. She straightens her hair sometimes, not all the time. I wondered what the occasion was. Her bangs, though, she didn't straighten. It came down almost covering half her face. She brushes it out of the way and slowly makes her way to the kitchen to make breakfast for herself.

"Morning, Anthony," she said.

"Mornin', Vee," I mumbled around a bite.

"You sound cheery as usual," Vanessa commented in the kitchen. "Don't forget your blazer and jacket today. Mom said it's gonna be a bit colder today."

I hummed in response. I hate southeastern Oregon's cold weather. I'm not a big fan of the cold at all. I'm more of a warm-weather person, or I say, a lizard person. A snepeople... or whatever the singular is for that.

I finished one of the English muffin halves and I didn't want to eat anymore. When Vanessa wasn't looking, I used the paper towel and crumpled up the muffin and napkin. I threw it away and went into the bathroom to finish what I needed to do there.

(I stopped writing here)