It wasn't the first time she felt this way. It wasn't even the second or third. This feeling had become a permanent part of her, carving out a home inside her chest where her heart used to be. She lay motionless on her bed, staring at the cracks in her ceiling, each one looking like a piece of her broken soul.
Her chest ached, not the kind of ache that time heals but the kind that consumes everything good inside of you. It wasn't just him—the man she had loved with every fiber of her being, who had taken her heart and torn it apart piece by piece. No, this time it was her best friend.
The one person she had trusted with her most fragile truths. The one she thought would always be there, her rock. But now, it hit her—her best friend had never shared anything personal in return. She had never been her priority. She had been there for her best friend, always, but now she realized… she was never enough.
She was never enough for anyone.
The thoughts spiraled in her mind, each one slicing her open like a blade. Why is it always me? Why am I the one left behind, when all I've ever wanted is love? The ache in her chest deepened, growing heavier with every breath. Her dry eyes burned from the tears she could no longer shed. She had cried too much. She had nothing left to give.
But oh, how she wanted to scream. She wanted to claw the walls and cry until her throat gave out. She wanted to rid herself of the voices in her head, but they wouldn't leave her. They never left her.
"You shouldn't have left her," one voice whispered bitterly.
"If you hadn't, you'd only be hurt even more," another replied, colder.
"I'm in pain," a softer one whimpered, trembling with fear. "I hate this. I hate being like this."
"I want to disappear," came another, quieter, more final.
And then the loudest voice, the cruelest one, roared through her mind like thunder. "It's your fault. You trust too easily. You give too much of yourself. She didn't care about you. She never cared. And him? He was right. You never think for yourself. You're nothing but a fool who listens to everyone else."
The memory of his words echoed in her mind. "You always listen to your friends. Why don't you think for yourself for once?"
Her chest heaved with silent sobs, the weight of her pain pressing down on her until she couldn't breathe. She clutched her blanket, as if it could shield her from the storm raging inside. But nothing could stop it.
It was too much. It was all too much.
The night was cold, the kind of cold that seeps into your bones and stays there. The room was eerily silent, save for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. But her mind—oh, her mind was louder than ever. Her thoughts screamed, echoing in the cavern of her broken heart.
"I can't do this anymore," one voice whimpered, desperate.
"I don't want to hurt anymore. It'll never stop. Please, make it stop," begged another, pleading.
Her body felt numb, her legs moving without her realizing it. She found herself standing on the terrace, the freezing wind cutting through her skin. She didn't care. She didn't feel it. All she felt was the ache in her chest, the ache that wouldn't leave her alone.
She looked down at the street below, dark and lifeless. Midnight had wrapped the world in silence, and yet, her mind screamed louder than ever. Above her, the full moon shone bright, its pale light casting shadows around her. For a fleeting moment, one small, fragile voice whispered, "Beautiful."
But the others drowned it out. The cruel ones.
"IT HURTS," they screamed. "IT HURTS SO MUCH. I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE. PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP. MAKE IT STOP!"
And then, she stepped forward.
The air rushed past her, cold and biting, but she felt free. For the first time in forever, she felt light, as if the weight of the world had finally been lifted. But then came the impact.
It was sudden, brutal, unforgiving.
She lay there, on the cold, hard road, blood pooling around her head like a crimson halo. The ache in her chest was still there, faint but lingering, like a ghost of her pain. But her mind—her mind was finally quiet.
She tilted her head, her vision blurring, and looked up at the moon one last time. A single tear slid down her cheek, warm against her cold skin.
The voices were gone now. All except one.
"Sleep well, my love," it whispered, soft and tender, as if cradling her broken heart.
Her eyes fluttered shut, and for the first time, she felt peace.
Finally, she was free.
End of "The haunting voices".