A girl that heard voices

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
The story is about a girl, who likes daydreaming and drinking a lot and may be very ill...

Submitted: September 22, 2015

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Submitted: September 22, 2015

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Rachel was a sad woman. Her jealousy over other people’s happiness made her feel dreadful and depressed. Very often, she wasn’t looking for any companion in her life, rather she focused on reading books and dreaming the way she had imagined her life would look like one day. This way she was not indignant of her unfair and outraged life. After few months of just going to work and home, not speaking to anyone and not having any friends, Rachel decided that alcohol would become her friend, although she knew that only a certain amount of this tricky poison would cheer her up and only for few moments. Deliberately, she would exceed that limit quite often. Thus she began drinking and with the consequences of exceeding her limits of drinking arrived unbearable and hardly manageable depression. When she was intoxicated and befuddled, her thoughts would be negative, taking her mind to the dark places, therefore hurting herself was unavoidable activity and there was no one who could stop her from doing that. After three days, Rachel’s colleagues became curious about what happened and why she did not show up at work.

At this point, Rachel forgot about reality, she forgot about serious life, she forgot and also she did not care. She experienced alterations in her drive and volition. The time just flew by. The time did not play any role at her forgotten life. The time did not exist. At that moment, there was only Rachel, her imagination and… alcohol. She was lying in her bed, listening to the music and dreaming. Dreaming during the days and dreaming during the nights. The curtains remained shut. Rachel’s contact with her family was nonexistent. No phone calls or meetings have been made or arranged, apart from celebrations such as funerals or weddings. Her family did not care and nor did she. From time to time however, that family situation would dismay her, especially at times when her friends (who were currently not her friends) went to spend time with their large families, when they were talking about wonderful times they had spent with their sisters or brothers, or when their grandmothers had been baking cakes for them or demonstrating funny advices about their relationships to them. Whilst hearing about this stories, she embraced a feeling of enviousness. A young melancholic flower, a dry autumn leave lost in a paddle of mud forgotten in the dark deep woods. Some people grieved her and attempted to bring her out of that darkness but she would not let them. One day, one of her colleagues decided to go to her house to find out what occurrences appeared that led to her dismiss. This colleague’s name was Ben, who initially arrived to the wrong address (Rachel loved moving but hate changing the address in papers at work). Rachel’s past housemates made Ben aware about her new home address. Having arrived to the correct house, Ben rang a bell but no one seemed to be occupying it at that time. A sweat appeared on his forehead as he panicked, having frightening thoughts about the possible actions that may have befallen. Maybe it was too late and she had done something terribly wrong. He would have never forgotten the misfortune of not having the opportunity to express his inner thoughts that yet were to be presented to her in the most unique way. Suddenly, there was a man who opened the door. Ben, who was grinning inappropriately but without realization, mainly trying to smile and hide the stress, asked promptly about Rachel. He was directed to the hospital. When he arrived to the hospital and asked about Rachel, he was directed to the psychiatric ward. He ran up to the fifth floor, using a staircase, then he turned to the left, down the corridor and suddenly he stopped in front of the doors. Out of nothing, he suddenly became scared. He knew that behind this doors would be her lying, and who knows what state she would be in. He felt rather anxious but was eager to find out if she was alright, thus he stepped in. There she was, weak and pale, with a dark curly, messy hair, looking as a cartoon character of Snow white. She was so beautiful, so feminine…and so hurt. The cuts were covering the area from her wrist to her elbow. They were not bleeding anymore but they must have been because the cuts, the wounds were still a bit red, he could see a dry blood at the end of the cuts. Tears were coming to his eyes, but he tried to focus on his breathing and get rid of that puerile (as he thought about that) feelings. She was sleeping, so he decided to wait until she would wake up. He sat there for hours and his thoughts were so confused and so mixed. He has had this feelings for her for a long time and wanted to tell her but the uncertainty of her reaction would make him rather anxious. He had to be strong, this was the moment and this was the right time to confess everything. His whole body was trembling from a huge excitement and desire to reveal his prevailing feelings. He imagined the moment of giving her a long, passionate kiss and she would wake up as it was in the Snow white and seven dwarfs (he had to stop watching that many cartoons- run through his mind). How pathetic, he thought.

 

Few hours later,

Everything was faded away apart from Rachel sitting in the dark corner of her room, with the back of her head leaning towards the wall. Although she was not sure how she appeared there, she remained sitting.

“Rachel, darling, where are you? Did you trip over again? You should down the bottle of vodka that is on the table for you and go to sleep.” Said an echoed, sweet voice. “Ben?” asked Rachel. “Oh babe, my hun. Ben is not here, nobody is here. You are as alone as you have always been. You should drink that vodka, right to the bottom.” Said the soft spoken voice.

“Who is this? Why are you talking to me? Go away! GO AWAY! DISSAPPEAAAAAR! ,” cried she.

‘Someone is following me, someone must have gotten to the house. Someone is going up and down the stairs. What am I going to do? I need some kind of weapon. Oh god, the only weapon I have are scissors. Where is the vodka? I am going to drink it and if I drink I won’t be haring things. Maybe it will go away.’ Rachel whispered to herself.  

Suddenly, a strong blinded light glittered in front of her and with this light there was a figure. Not one, two figures. The faces were not quite clear, they appeared very enlightened and she could feel their positive energy. They seemed as if they were two entities, lost in the space.

“Rachel, you must be strong. You must stop drinking. Now go to bed and get some sleep. You don’t even know what day it is. You must go and sleep. Please listen to us and do it now. We will come and see you again soon!” said two silvery voices in a monotonous tone together.

Rachel heard them out and went to sleep. She slept for a long time.

When she woke up, she glanced at the watch and the watch told her that it was 12pm Thursday afternoon. This made her very confused. The last day she remembered was last Sunday. She had no recollection of past 4 days. Her room was mess, the bottle of wine everywhere. The bottle of vodka still sitting and waiting on the table. The last thing she had a recollection of was watching stupid commercials on Sunday and drinking a bottle of wine. “Why do I have cuts on my hands? Why am I feeling so ill? What happened?” she sat on her bed, crying.

“You know, maybe it is not as bad as it looks. No, No, No. Look at me. Look at me. It will be even WOOOORSE!” cried throaty voice out loud.

“Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it”, cried Rachel, cove

Rachel was a sad woman. Her jealousy over other people’s happiness made her feel dreadful and depressed. Very often, she wasn’t looking for any companion in her life, rather she focused on reading books and dreaming the way she had imagined her life would look like one day. This way she was not indignant of her unfair and outraged life. After few months of just going to work and home, not speaking to anyone and not having any friends, Rachel decided that alcohol would become her friend, although she knew that only a certain amount of this tricky poison would cheer her up and only for few moments. Deliberately, she would exceed that limit quite often. Thus she began drinking and with the consequences of exceeding her limits of drinking arrived unbearable and hardly manageable depression. When she was intoxicated and befuddled, her thoughts would be negative, taking her mind to the dark places, therefore hurting herself was unavoidable activity and there was no one who could stop her from doing that. After three days, Rachel’s colleagues became curious about what happened and why she did not show up at work.

At this point, Rachel forgot about reality, she forgot about serious life, she forgot and also she did not care. She experienced alterations in her drive and volition. The time just flew by. The time did not play any role at her forgotten life. The time did not exist. At that moment, there was only Rachel, her imagination and… alcohol. She was lying in her bed, listening to the music and dreaming. Dreaming during the days and dreaming during the nights. The curtains remained shut. Rachel’s contact with her family was nonexistent. No phone calls or meetings have been made or arranged, apart from celebrations such as funerals or weddings. Her family did not care and nor did she. From time to time however, that family situation would dismay her, especially at times when her friends (who were currently not her friends) went to spend time with their large families, when they were talking about wonderful times they had spent with their sisters or brothers, or when their grandmothers had been baking cakes for them or demonstrating funny advices about their relationships to them. Whilst hearing about this stories, she embraced a feeling of enviousness. A young melancholic flower, a dry autumn leave lost in a paddle of mud forgotten in the dark deep woods. Some people grieved her and attempted to bring her out of that darkness but she would not let them. One day, one of her colleagues decided to go to her house to find out what occurrences appeared that led to her dismiss. This colleague’s name was Ben, who initially arrived to the wrong address (Rachel loved moving but hate changing the address in papers at work). Rachel’s past housemates made Ben aware about her new home address. Having arrived to the correct house, Ben rang a bell but no one seemed to be occupying it at that time. A sweat appeared on his forehead as he panicked, having frightening thoughts about the possible actions that may have befallen. Maybe it was too late and she had done something terribly wrong. He would have never forgotten the misfortune of not having the opportunity to express his inner thoughts that yet were to be presented to her in the most unique way. Suddenly, there was a man who opened the door. Ben, who was grinning inappropriately but without realization, mainly trying to smile and hide the stress, asked promptly about Rachel. He was directed to the hospital. When he arrived to the hospital and asked about Rachel, he was directed to the psychiatric ward. He ran up to the fifth floor, using a staircase, then he turned to the left, down the corridor and suddenly he stopped in front of the doors. Out of nothing, he suddenly became scared. He knew that behind this doors would be her lying, and who knows what state she would be in. He felt rather anxious but was eager to find out if she was alright, thus he stepped in. There she was, weak and pale, with a dark curly, messy hair, looking as a cartoon character of Snow white. She was so beautiful, so feminine…and so hurt. The cuts were covering the area from her wrist to her elbow. They were not bleeding anymore but they must have been because the cuts, the wounds were still a bit red, he could see a dry blood at the end of the cuts. Tears were coming to his eyes, but he tried to focus on his breathing and get rid of that puerile (as he thought about that) feelings. She was sleeping, so he decided to wait until she would wake up. He sat there for hours and his thoughts were so confused and so mixed. He has had this feelings for her for a long time and wanted to tell her but the uncertainty of her reaction would make him rather anxious. He had to be strong, this was the moment and this was the right time to confess everything. His whole body was trembling from a huge excitement and desire to reveal his prevailing feelings. He imagined the moment of giving her a long, passionate kiss and she would wake up as it was in the Snow white and seven dwarfs (he had to stop watching that many cartoons- run through his mind). How pathetic, he thought.

 

Few hours later,

Everything was faded away apart from Rachel sitting in the dark corner of her room, with the back of her head leaning towards the wall. Although she was not sure how she appeared there, she remained sitting.

“Rachel, darling, where are you? Did you trip over again? You should down the bottle of vodka that is on the table for you and go to sleep.” Said an echoed, sweet voice. “Ben?” asked Rachel. “Oh babe, my hun. Ben is not here, nobody is here. You are as alone as you have always been. You should drink that vodka, right to the bottom.” Said the soft spoken voice.

“Who is this? Why are you talking to me? Go away! GO AWAY! DISSAPPEAAAAAR! ,” cried she.

‘Someone is following me, someone must have gotten to the house. Someone is going up and down the stairs. What am I going to do? I need some kind of weapon. Oh god, the only weapon I have are scissors. Where is the vodka? I am going to drink it and if I drink I won’t be haring things. Maybe it will go away.’ Rachel whispered to herself.  

Suddenly, a strong blinded light glittered in front of her and with this light there was a figure. Not one, two figures. The faces were not quite clear, they appeared very enlightened and she could feel their positive energy. They seemed as if they were two entities, lost in the space.

“Rachel, you must be strong. You must stop drinking. Now go to bed and get some sleep. You don’t even know what day it is. You must go and sleep. Please listen to us and do it now. We will come and see you again soon!” said two silvery voices in a monotonous tone together.

Rachel heard them out and went to sleep. She slept for a long time.

When she woke up, she glanced at the watch and the watch told her that it was 12pm Thursday afternoon. This made her very confused. The last day she remembered was last Sunday. She had no recollection of past 4 days. Her room was mess, the bottle of wine everywhere. The bottle of vodka still sitting and waiting on the table. The last thing she had a recollection of was watching stupid commercials on Sunday and drinking a bottle of wine. “Why do I have cuts on my hands? Why am I feeling so ill? What happened?” she sat on her bed, crying.

“You know, maybe it is not as bad as it looks. No, No, No. Look at me. Look at me. It will be even WOOOORSE!” cried throaty voice out loud.

“Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it”, cried Rachel, covering her ears.

“Go and drink that bottle of vodka, down it nicely and quickly,” the grinning figure said in an authoritative way.

“Let her be, you idiot. What are you trying to do to her? Go and choose some other victims, stronger victims!” said the couple of figures and send her to go to sleep.

 

Rachel was staring at them, experiencing horrible headache.  At this point she was uncertain about what to do. She could think of two things, either she would drink the bottle of vodka and possibly die or she would admit she needs help and would call the ambulance. She preferred the former more…

ring her ears.

“Go and drink that bottle of vodka, down it nicely and quickly,” the grinning figure said in an authoritative way.

“Let her be, you idiot. What are you trying to do to her? Go and choose some other victims, stronger victims!” said the couple of figures and send her to go to sleep.

 

Rachel was staring at them, experiencing horrible headache.  At this point she was uncertain about what to do. She could think of two things, either she would drink the bottle of vodka and possibly die or she would admit she needs help and would call the ambulance. She preferred the former more…


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