Nancy's Insanity.

Everyone wants to be a hero, almost die and come out on top. It’s not as easy as it sounds. I know; I’ve been there. One small day and things became both amazing and impossible with the twist and turns of a crazy dirt road with just as many bump. Coming out on top was the hardest; especially when there are so many things to turn you on others and make you stay down the bottom.1

~2

It was my typical morning, I had not slept so I didn’t really call it much of a morning. Crawling from my bedroom I went to the bathroom, same routine each day for myself, all I could do to keep some snatch of my sanity that was slowly running out each passing minute. As terrible as it was though, I was mildly enjoying the new way I had been living these past three months. My parents were now giving me the space I needed and more people had been stopping by to see me, I had the time and took it to help them out. 3

See when one is as apparently disturbed as I am, then people come to you for help in their own disturbed rooms. I had a lot of messed up friends who were like me, which I guess is something that drew me to them at the same time. Was a little humorous how they flocked in for my help when before they would give me a sharp backhand for intruding, I was one of them now. 4

First I had started seeing my friends in my bedroom, for my bed that is; because some of them liked to fuck away their problems. With my not sleeping I am a likely fix for this need for a fuck. I am always up and always open. But the bedroom had to be ruled out. I spent all my waking moments when alone in that room. It was as crazy teenagers room should have looked like. The walls were covered in black shade drawings made from crayons, the only color I had since the dream, all my colored ones were missing and any that I had bought in the early days were well and truly gone. The floor was full dirty and there were clothes scattered around, and blood. Lots of blood that had accumulated since the beginning of that first three months. 5

Things were hard sometimes and I would always cut deeply, it was an overcome of the pain I couldn’t handle and needed a release from. The voices in my head were the main reason, they were there now as I sat on the toilet and took a piss. Telling me a time would come when I would have to be a hero, that the time was soon and that things would be difficult and I had to sleep to be strong. But I couldn’t and wouldn’t sleep. It was impossible so I moved to the basin and removed another blade from the stashed packet beneath the dusty sleeping pill packet. 6

Shuffling back to my room I closed and locked the door, no broken friends to help today. No people to sleep with and no parents to bother me, I was alone until the next day. Sitting in the circle I had drawn with my black crayons; I pushed the sleeve of my pajama top up and stared down at the red welted and scarred skin that stared back at me with long gashes for eyes and a small scar for a thin lined mouth. It opened up and smiled at me, told me I was going to have to make a quick choice very soon. Giggling I slammed the razor down into it’s eye and laughed as it shrieked in pain. Blood gagged it mouth and I smiled sitting back against my dresser. Looking into one of the crayon pictures super glued to my wall. 7

It was like all those nights, I woke with the same picture in my head and moved like a zombie till id drawn it, now with free time I had tried to construct something from it. Nothing had been created though to my dismay and I was stuck on what they meant. 8

It was like a switch had flicked in my mind, my eyes went dull and fell to a half closed state as I stood with my arms hanging loose at my sides. Like in a trance I began ripping the pictures without effort from the walls and rearranging them to my suiting. Stepping back I fell to the floor, lying there momentarily motionless until I stirred back to abnormality again. 9

Standing I gasped in shock and fell onto my sleepless mussed bed, the sheets twisting around my arms like tight thick ropes as I saw the print on the wall made from all the drawings I’d created out of a black crayon. The words were like bubble form writing and stood out at me sharply. The ropes were winding all around me now, making my face stare into the writing. Spelled out was “It’s so beautiful. But I’m suffocating.” 10

It was true also, the sheets were entwining themselves around my neck so I couldn’t breathe and it was beautiful as I lay dying at the hands of my bed which had kept me from peace and sleep for so long, it was finally killing me. But that couldn’t be allowed, oh no. Blood from my stabbed silent wrist was fighting back, coming in tendrils that soaked the sheets so they were heavy and fell away from my chaffed skin.11

Coughing I drew in needed breathe while my blood winked and fell in splatters to the limp and defeated sheets. That wasn’t the end though, I had to be suffering badly here because my wrist was talking to me again, telling me things needed to be done and I couldn’t just lay here and be useless and die. It was useless and pitiful. Sitting up I shook my head and slammed the blade down again.12

‘Don’t tell me what to do.’ I muttered standing while I tried to force away the voices in my head, they were being harsh now and using unnecessary words like useless whore and cunt. I was much annoyed by this and screamed at myself. When that did nothing at all, I gave up and flopped back down on the bed.13

‘Now is the time.’ It echoed through the room in a low hum as I looked at the shaking door, people were trying to get through the lock and my heart was racing at the thought of losing some rarely had alone time. I needed this to work on the voices!14

‘Go away!’ I screamed again but they only forced their way through quicker and had me pinned down hard by the arms. ’What do you all want from me!? You said you didn’t need me today!’ It was my friends, all the people I helped over time and they held eager looks for blood shed and hate in their eyes.15

‘We always needed you Nancy, always. Help us win Nancy, we need a hero. Help us take down the paper flowers.’ It was like synch with their crazed and fast voices speaking all at the same time. It had me frightened and wondering what the paper flowers they were, it was like Evanescence’s song Imaginary. 16

‘In my field of paper flowers?’ The group nodded and seemed to take this as my yes for helping them. Paper flowers. The last thing on my mind before I fell fast into a drug induced sleep.17

~18

When I woke I was in a room above a lot of people who were massed around me in groups of desperate people seeking attention from me. Looking around there were things like my drawings on the wall and I felt like I was one of the drawings. Squeezed in around so many others that I cannot move. I need my space and this is not what I would call space. So many people were pressing against her, it was….crazy. 19

Screaming for quiet I was immediately amassed by everyone with daggers as they abused me with their questions and demanded for help. They all had scars like my own and claimed the same dreams and symptoms of Insomnia. When the pressure was too much that was it, everything was all over and I was sitting in a char atop a mountain of razor blades and nooses with blood for a canal and guns as the piranha’s. 20

‘Will you tell all your friends I have a gun held to your head?’ There was a gun to my head and the voice belonged to Brady and for the first time I felt some sense of release as the trigger was fired and I woke dramatically to the song playing in my CD player.21

There was blood all over my pillow and my body as I looked down at it, that is when I noticed I was looking down at myself with half my skull blown out and missing on the side of my pillow where you could scarcely see the sesame street pattern below it. The gun was dropped to the side and I knew I was dead with the words filled in with my blood where the black drawings had left spaces to form the words. Casting at my wrists they were deeply cut and bloody, gouged out so no blood was barely remaining. 22

This is what it is like to be dead…Was I not meant to be the surviving hero?!