"DAMN YOU, MOM!" I shouted at her. "THE VOICES ARE GONE."
She slapped me again. "First: you will never swear at me, you little bastard. Second: what voices?"
I didn't care what she said. I didn't care what she did. I hated her.
"Don't listen to her... you're perfect...." The voices were back. They whispered to me. They wanted me to listen to them, and I did.
"Never touch me again," I told my mom. "I will kill you. The voices want me to listen to them and I will listen to them. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"
My mom stopped. She looked at me, like she was worried. "Are you all right?" she asked.
"Yes, I'm fine, " I told her bitterly.
"I think you're not...whatever voices you're hearing aren't real," she told me.
I didn't want to listen to her. The voices told me I was fine. They told me they were real.
I trusted the voices. I loved them.
"I'm leaving," I said. I flipped my long, black hair over my shoulder and adjusted the glasses over my bright green eyes. I wasn't open for an argument. I opened the door, left, and slammed it shut.
The voices were free to speak.