SHARP

He always found silver attractive. It was around grade 10 I guess when he first began to feel that something was inside him. A voice always taunted him. At first he thought that gone insane, not that he was normal for that matter but insane in other way, I mean he was depressed for that matter but insane in much higher way, not that he knew that he was depressed but he’d got a pretty good idea around that time. Anyway he began to hear this voice, taunting him, making him angry, and making him unable to focus in anything.

“Shall I cut myself? But then again it’d leave scars on my body that I’d have to hide for eternity. No, I shouldn’t but what shall I do? I’ve tried smoking but it only gives relief temporarily and I can’t smoke every time. Wait a sec… I can be drunk all the time and if I drink in my form of limit, I can do that without anyone finding it!” so he drank and remained a drunk for two years until his parents found that their son’s been depressed and took him to a psychiatrist.

Some pills and he’d lower his drunken state but then that voice began again, taunting him. By then his psychiatrist had diagnosed him with MPD, IED, SAD and depression. He’d began going to art class by then and there he saw it; a pen knife. He used it or let’s say that he misused it. Whenever that voice began he’d stab himself over and over again but he was careful not to cause any external wounds. Silver had always attracted him.

Over the course of the next two years his MPD only grew. Instead of one voice taunting him two voices began to taunt him. He’d made some friends by then but no one close enough to talk about the voices so he stabbed himself more just to quiet then voices. He had his trusty silver pen-knife with him. He medicated, meditated and went through mind numbing hours of hypnotism just to quiet those voices down. But instead of quieting down, the voices began to take the form as they began to take control over his body. He switched the blunt pain of the knife to a sharper but less destructive pain of a screw-driver. It was silver after all.

One year after another passed and he learned to tame or at least control those voices or have some control over letting them control his body but the pain still remained. See here the problem was not the voices themselves but the headache they left after they spoke to him each and every time. He had already been a caffeine addict before. One of the voices named Criss suggested that he’d go back to the coffee to calm and ease the pain. He knew that that voice named Criss cared for him but Criss couldn’t help but talk to him as she (yes Criss was a feminine voice) too needed to exist. Listening to her voice he went back to caffeine. It helped hum but made him a caffeine addict again.

Coffee is bad for IED and made his other voice taunt him more. Well his other voice thrived on his IED episodes and he began to chew toothpicks as to monitor his IED episodes and control that voice that thrived on it. There he found another measure-jabbing himself with toothpick every time that voice came.

You see by this time he had realized that it was not silver that he had liked but the sharpness of that object albeit be it a knife, a screw-driver or a toothpick. He was a sharp lover

-Seul Voyager