The Devil in Beautiful People

STOP!-” I yelled! “Please stop it!-” I cried! “Hello PLEASE?”  “Can nobody hear me?” “HELP ME!” I know I heard myself speak. “Come on stupid say something!” I said to myself softly as I started to cry. “Come on, Shout! Scream anything you coward! SPEAK!-” I kept repeating to myself. Come to think of it, I could’ve sworn that I did.      “Hello 911, What is the name of your emergency?” **** Born with what the doctor diagnosed me as (SBS) or Split-Brain Syndrome, definitely did not make life any easier. Not to mention, I wasn’t able to stem the emotional aspect of the human brain. A lot would assume that would make me emotionless. The only thing I will say is, it definitely did not make it easy for people to socialize with me. Unless it piqued my interest. They might have mentioned that I had failed at the beginning. A detail so bold, it seemed so easy to forget. Maybe it was just hiding a lot of truth within knowing. It was the night of August 16th and the year of 2006, around 5:30 in the evening. I was surprised by the weather and how warm the evening was this time of year in the town of Plymouth. It began the same way it started any other day, the sun shining, a chill breeze. Then I noticed that the wind was blowing harder, echoing it’s way in and back out into the distance. While the music plays softly in the background. My sister and I are enjoying ourselves with each other’s company. Suddenly there was this horrific sound of static electricity pulsing through my head, stuck ringing through my ears like a broken doll with its batteries draining noise I knew I would never get out of my head. A moment that would have been surrounded by laughter and would soon be interrupted by drama her boyfriend would cause