Hidden Evil

Differentiation (Braxton)

When I woke up, Bradley was gone. I looked around for that godforsaken figure. Thankfully, it was silent. While thankful for the silence, it's not a peaceful silence. My silence is filled with fear, waiting for new voices or figures to infiltrate my f****d up mind. I sighed and began slapping my rubber band against my wrist. Dr. Wicker doesn't know I have this. He dropped it on his way out after checking on me when I woke up. The sting on my wrist helps keep me focused; it allows me to differentiate between what is real and what isn't. Every day I feel my mind going more and more. Bradley might be the straw to break the camel's back if he keeps returning to that stupid house.

He's not going to stop, a voice said in my head.

"Shut up," I said, snapping the rubber band harder against my wrist.

HEY, the voice screamed at me.

It sounded so close that I quickly shot up and looked around the room. I saw nothing. Big shocker there. I sigh and rub my eyes. I'm so mentally exhausted from this bullshit. When my eyes opened, I noticed the same Max-looking figure. Except, this time, he looked decomposed. Max's head was tilted to the side, and his neck looked broken. Blood came out of his nose, and his breathing was rigid and raspy.

You killed me.

Tears began filling my widened eyes. As my breathing quickened, I slapped the rubber band against my wrist. I looked away as my wrist stung. The figure was still there when I looked back, his breathing seeming even louder. I slapped the rubber band against my wrist harder. The figure was still there. I continued to hit the rubber band against my wrist, hoping the figure would disappear.

You killed me.

Tears of blood began to run down his face.

"Stop," I beg.

YOU KILLED ME! IF IT WEREN'T FOR YOU, I'D STILL BE ALIVE. IT SHOULD'VE BEEN Y-

"Go away," I screamed, slapping the rubber band against my wrist.

"Hey, hey, hey," a voice sounded.

I felt warm hands take the rubber band away from me. I felt myself slowly coming back to reality. My chest felt tight, and I felt sweaty.

"Braxton, look at me."

My wild eyes landed on the owner of the voice. Dr. Wicker.

"What's going on," he asked me.

I ran my hands through my hair before swallowing the lump in my throat. I took a deep breath before shakily answering the man.

"I saw Max. He looked decomposed, his neck was broken, and he was breathing all loud and raspy. He was also crying tears of blood, and he-"

Dr. Wicker nodded and let me ramble on about what I saw. I felt my words morph into gibberish, but at that point, I didn't care.

"-The rubber band helped me differentiate what was real and what wasn't."

Dr.Wicker looked at me.

"Well," he began, "you know we can't have you hurting yourself, right?"

I sighed and nodded.

"Am I in trouble," I asked.

"Of course not," the doctor replied, "it's my job to help you. You're just trying to find ways to help ease your mind, correct?"

I nodded.

"We could get you a stress ball or something similar to help you." Dr. Wicker said.

That didn't sound like a bad idea. I thought about the suggestion before nodding. Dr.Wicker softly smiled before patting my shoulder and leaving, taking the rubber band with him. I sighed and curled up as I lay down. I did my best to ignore the voices in my head. It was hard to deal with them without the rubber band. I tried to find other ways to help myself differentiate until I got that stress ball. I couldn't pull my hair or dig my nails into my hand because I'd get in trouble for that. I couldn't slap a rubber band against my wrist for the same reason. At least, I think I'd get in trouble. I thought that snapping my fingers might help. I started snapping my fingers. Soon enough, my mind focused on the snapping sound rather than the voices in my head. My mind soon felt peaceful, and my eyes grew heavy. I let my eyes close as I drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

As I opened my eyes, a bright yellow smiley stress ball on my dresser caught my attention. I sat up and grabbed it. As I began squeezing it, I felt calmer and less stressed. When I sensed the voices returning, I squeezed the ball in one hand while snapping my fingers with the other. This helped me keep the focus on my current reality. Despite how much my current reality sucks, I wouldn't allow my mind to believe that the figures and voices were a part of it. I wouldn't let them take over my reality. I wanted my old reality back; when things were normal, and my friends were here. I wanted my sanity back, so I promised myself I wouldn't give in. More importantly, I promised Bradley I'd do my best to remain sane. It's hard to remain sane when your mind is constantly under attack 24/7. I sighed and refocused on squeezing the ball and snapping my fingers.

My mind felt quiet, and it allowed me to think. My mind couldn't focus on anything in particular, but it was as if my thoughts were floating. One moment I was thinking about that night, and the next, I was thinking about some stupid memory from third grade. With each thought and memory, I squeezed the ball and took a deep breath. I then thought about the need to thank Dr.Wicker later. I appreciate him letting me ramble and wanting to help me. I thought about Bradley and sighed. Even if I could help myself stay sane, Bradley would probably take it because he is a dumbass. Speaking of Bradley, I wonder what he's doing right now.