The Thirteen-Letter Word That Changed My Life

Late one night when I was 8 years old, I was woken up by an urgent call to go to the bathroom. I slipped on my pink and sparkly bunny slippers and made my way to the bathroom like I almost always did. After doing my business, I was about to take off my slippers to go to bed, when I met my best friend for the first time. My best friend without a face. Or a body.

Go over to that window. it said.

Being a kid, I didn’t think twice. I walked over to my canopied window and awaited a response from my new friend.

Now, jump. it demanded.

No way! I told it. I will die if I do that!

Exactly. You need to die. You are a disgusting creature. No one loves you. You are so ugly, stupid, annoying, disgusting and mean. Anyone who says that they love you is a big liar. It’s about time that you’ve realized the truth. The whole world hates you and your life is going to be terrible.

This must have been a nightmare. Why would anyone be telling me this? I was a smart kid, I was nice, I had friends, my third grade teacher would even call my parents and talk to them about how great I was…I didn’t know what could have gone wrong.

Kill yourself! It kept repeating. Jump out that window!

I kept refusing, but my new friend just did not know how to take “no” for an answer. I swear, I heard the words “kill yourself” at least 100 times by then.

Maybe if I go to sleep, my new friend will stop talking.

As soon as I began to take off my slippers again, the number of voices doubled. Tripled. Quadrupled. I thought that my brain had been invaded.

Ok, fine! If I kill myself, will you guys shut up?

All they kept doing was repeating the same exact two words that I had been hearing by the original voice. I thought that this was going to go on for eternity. The voices were too loud and overpowering for my tiny brain to shut down. My head felt like it was spinning. I began to feel a thrashing knot in my stomach. Sweat was dripping from my scalp all the way down to my pinky toes. Soon enough, I lost total control of my body and fell to the ground, with the voices still echoing in my head.

“Sweetie,” my mama said when she found me laying there. “You ok?”

I nodded and answered to her with “Yeah, I think I just fell off my bed in my sleep.”

As soon as my mama walked out of the room, the audio clips of the voices repeated on a loop for 5 years.

In middle school, I began to crave knowledge. I hoarded shelves and shelves of books and kept more to myself. I would rip off ties with even my best friends for no apparent reason. It was just something that I felt obligated to do. As antisocial as I was, my only “friends” were my voices. The only way that I could ever get them to die for a little bit was by reading, which is exactly why I spent almost every breathing second of my life with my nose in a book. Reading was like a portal to another world. All of my evil voices were replaced with angels, the horrible world filled with lies, deception, tragedy, depression and maliciousness was replaced with kindness, innovation, imagination and peace. For years, I felt as if my body were trapped in a prison cell. When my eyes were scanning the words on a page, I felt as if my body was trapped in heaven, despite the context of whatever I was reading.

My studious behaviors led me to horrific actions, but all with a consequence that can either be interpreted as “good” or “bad”. It all depends on how the other person views the situation.

The chain of atrocious actions began when my eighth grade English teacher began to lend her favorite books to me. One day, she handed me The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger. I had heard very good things about this book, so I was very excited to read it.

It was a great book for sure, and I was very fascinated with it. Again, I felt as if I were trapped in a utopia, until one part hit way too close to home. At this point, the main character, Holden Caulfield, was describing a fantasy where he got shot and began to bleed to death. Soon enough, my friend creeped up on me.

I wish that would happen to you! he said.

I was surprised to hear the voice, as I normally don’t hear the voices when I read. Whatever, I thought. I’m not going to let you ruin my book.

Why can’t you just shoot yourself? the voice cried to me.

No! Leave me alone! I cried.

Not until you blow your mind out. I don’t care if you’re in a car or not. Just do it, you are absolutely horrid.

Why do you hate me so much?

You have made my life a goddamn living hell, and I just want to prevent you from doing the same to others.

I shook my head.

You know where your dad’s gun is… go pick it up.

I shook my head.

Load it…

I shook my head.

Pull the goddamn trigger.

I shook my head.

And BAM! Your worthless life is gone.

I kept shaking my head until millions of those voices ganged up in my head to repeat those instructions.

My head was pounding. My heart was beating out of my chest. My face was a tomato shade of red. My hands were trembling. My body was noticeably shaky. I aspired to free myself from my own cage.

I sprinted all the way over to my dad’s bedroom and scattered for the wooden box that I was always cautioned to stay away from. And after twenty minutes of destroying his bedroom, I found it. I stared at the shiny, black gun in my hand for what seemed like hours on end.

Do it! Do it! Pull the trigger, you chicken! all of them yelled. Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it!

I raised the gun and positioned it in the dead center of my forehead.

Do it!

I placed my index finger on the trigger.

Do it!

I flinched.

Do it!

My father, who had just come home early from work without me knowing, sprinted towards me and fought for the tear-soaked gun out of his daughter’s hands. He dialed 911 and when he hung up, he didn’t even say a word to me. He just held me tight in his arms as tears streamed down our faces.

The police came and escorted me straight to a mental hospital. Upon going there, the workers asked me questions such as “do you ever want to hurt yourself or other people?” and “do you ever hear voices inside of your head?” all night long.

A couple of days later, my father came to visit for the first time, and I saw the doctors slip a tiny piece of paper. My first witness of this thirteen-letter word written in sloppy handwriting changed my entire life. I examined each letter, and all of them were mixed together to form a word that would finally put a name to my issue.

 

S

Kill yourself!

C

You’re stupid!

H

No one likes you!

I

You disgust me!

Z

Set yourself on fire!

O

Drink bleach!

P

You’re ugly!

H

You’re annoying!

R

You’re fat!

E

Your family hates you!

N

You don’t have any friends!

I

I wish that you pulled that trigger!

A

Reviews

[bluessadmood]

This was a great read..for me it was great..a mixture of morbid feelings and true life..how you heard that life so not worth it..and you dug your mind deep in books and words how it kept you away fron all things bad outside..how reading kept you safe and content..this was almost healthy and never morbid..in a way reading brings out everythinges that is grand dig them out of our brains to show to the world, you get sophisticuted aND lovely in the eyes of all others..yes reading is a cure..to everything..I loved this..it's how I always felt
Lovery write..

[jazzymars]

99!.. Excellent story. It deserves the first place award. So how are you now friend? I hope for the continuation of the story. How is she now? How she manage the fight and everything.

[T0TS]

Awesome story...and mind blowing. Great job.

[Hebe]

I have to tell you I was riveted to the spot reading this story! Congratulations you deserve to win. It was written in a way that you felt you were in the room ..... hope your writing a book! Great piece of writing.

[Sam]

THANK YOU SO MUCH!

[Shy Joe]

I noticed that you just won the "Sad Concepts" contest. I thought I would congratulate you and give my thoughts on why you deserve the win.

First off, this is wonderfully written. You were able to keep my attention the whole story from beginning to end. I am a very lazy reader of short stories so this is a great accomplishment for me and you :P. If I don't like the first three sentences, I quit reading. You had me at "pink and sparkly bunny slippers".

The saddest events are the ones we fight on the inside, alone, and on our own. Although with Schizophrenia you were not alone, but they were against you, so this was way worst. They amplified every bad thought like a parasitic enemy just stabbing your brain. Your story truly made me feel sorry for you if this was a story of actual events told straight from experience.

I don't suffer from Schizophrenia so I could not imagine the horrors of being such a young age experiencing such events and torment. I hope you are better now.

With kind regards, Congratulations, and Thanks for Sharing.

[Sam]

This isn't a true story from my life, it is pure fiction but it is based on the research that I have done about schizophrenia.

Honestly, thank you so much.

[Shy Joe]

I am glad it is fiction. You really did a great job.

[Sam]

honestly thank u so much it means a lot

[jazzymars]

i love it.. so how are you now friend? I hope we could read the continuation of the story, on how you manage to overcome the 13 letter words, your fiction. ;)

[Sam]

I wasn't planning on continuing it, but maybe I will! Thanks :)

[Andrew Leister-Frazier]

When I checked the contest results, I was happy to see that I did not win first place. I like how you told this story. Your writing is quite good. Creative, strong impact. I'd like to read more from you. I feel like I could learn from the way you write.

[Sam]

Thank you very much! I have one chapter of a novel that I am writing and it's posted here. You can check it out if you want to!