Fractured mind

My exploration of human insanity exploring themes of mental struggle.

At first it was just there. Doing nothing. Hurting no one.

But as the days passed, its presence grew thicker, like a fog that clung to every thought, whispering cruel truths that only I could hear.

It wanted me to hurt them. The voice was always loudest when I was around the people I loved, its venomous words dripping with anger as it whispered my darkest fears: "They don't truly care about you."

They hate me. I know it. It told me.

The voice was relentless, echoing in my mind like a cave, and I couldn't shake the feeling that it was right, that everyone was just pretending to care, waiting for me to slip up so they could reveal their true person.

It was my only friend. The only one I trusted, and yet, even as I clung to its words, a tiny, terrified part of me wondered if I was wrong to trust it, if its friendship was just a clever trap, designed to keep me by myself and alone.

I can't think of that now. I need to hurt them before they hurt me. My hands trembled with anticipation as I reached for the knife on the counter, the voice in my head cheering me on, its approval a sickening sense of validation that drowned out the faint whispers of my own conscience.

I need to do it. I don't want to, but the voice wouldn't let me hesitate, its urgency an undeniable force that propelled me forward, even as my heart screamed in protest, torn between the terror of listening and the terror of resisting.

I look down at my work, and for a moment, the voice in my head fell silent, as if even it was horrified by what I had done, the silence a heavy, suffocating blanket that wrapped around me, as I stared at the destruction I had created.

Then it laughed.

The sound was like a cold wind that blew through my soul, its sadistic glee echoing in my mind as it spoke a single, chilling word: "Mine."

I hate myself. Everyone hates me. I can't trust anyone. Apart from it, the voice, the only one who truly understood me, the only one who didn't judge me, the only one who accepted me for who I was... or so it whispered, its words a poisonous comfort that wrapped around my heart like a shroud.

As I whispered "thank you" to the voice, the darkness closed in around me, an embrace that extinguished the last spark of light in my mind. And in that eternal darkness, the voice finally fell silent, its work done, as I became one with the shadows, forever trapped in the nightmare of my own creation.




If you or someone you know is struggling with mental health issues, please know that you are not alone. There is help available. Reach out to a trusted friend, family member, or mental health professional for support. You can also contact crisis hotlines in your area.

Author's Note

Content Warning: This story contains graphic descriptions of mental health struggles, paranoia, and hallucinations. Reviewers, please be mindful of your language and tone.