4Ever since I was a child I could hear voices. Not regular voices that everyone can hear though. They were in my head, and I was the only one that knew they were there.
Then one day I made the mistake of telling them... The others who couldn't hear...
They thought I was crazy. Said hearing voices in your head was a "sure sign of insanity" and had to be "dealt with accordingly".
Dealt with? Oh they dealt with it all right. They stuck me in an institution to deal with the problem of their perfect little girl going nuts.
Do you have any idea what it's like, being in this place? You're all alone with people who hate you for something you can't control. They have all the power and you have nothing. Nothing at all.
They'd spend hours trying to convince me that I wasn't really hearing voices... "It was all in my head," they'd say. "Once you admit it, it'll all go away."
But you see, it wasn't just my brain getting a few wires crossed. I was actually hearing the thoughts of those around me.
It was scary at times, once I realized what those terrible voices were. Before they had just been little whispers floating around in my head, like bits of a conversation from a television program you remember at odd moments. None of them were focused on a single thought, merely pulled in all directions. But then, when I was taken away, they got louder and more violent.
See, if you get put with people who really are crazy, after a while they start rubbing off on you. You start thinking that you might be crazy too. Those people's thoughts are the worst of all! Such a jumbled mess; the purest sense of chaos.
They began invading my mind, trying to take it over, make it their own. For a while, I fought back. I struggled against the darkness that pressed against my soul, threatening to consume me.
Finally, I gave up. You would too, if your parents called you a freak and left you for dead.
Now I'm here, in this little white room. They said I was becoming a danger to myself and others around me, so they put me in here. Just a cold white room. A place to put things you want to forget about.
Are you going to forget about me too? It doesn't really matter anymore...
Those voices - the crazy ones, they're so loud now. I can barely hear my own voice. It's tiny now. A little whisper of insanity all my own.
It's getting dark here, and very cold.
Who knows? Maybe I am crazy after all...
08.19.03
A. Richardson
A/N: I wrote this monologue for my Advanced Theater class. Anyone interested in using it, please email me.
HikariAmi
PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! Thanks.