The Cycle of a Mad Man

What happens when there's more than one of them and they prevail?

Conceptualize the life and times of the modern day mad man.
Seriously realize the errors and trials he has to deal with on a daily basis. Some people put on more than one hat, this one walks around wearing his many complex and individual faces.

No other choice than taking it one stride after another. Cursing the world for the injustice besieged upon him for having to share his mind with so many others.

Always listening to the voices and some times following the orders from his dear friends who continues to scream and shout in his head.
The unnatural noises are always daring and prodding him to seek the adrenaline, break the rules and take his forbidden love, Sin, to bed.

It's hard, it's a struggle to be a normal man.
It's two in the morning, head down, drenched and walking around in the pouring rain.
Weerily watching the puddles soak his socks and his one remaining shoe.
His only cigarette is left wet and uselessly hanging from his lips.
He's ragged, he's homeless and he's about to do something unexpected and insane, all it takes is loss of control, just a little slip and than there's nothing more he can do.

Fighting the voices, alarmed, failing, knowing that he's giving it all he can. There is no such thing as trying harder.
There's no where to hide. He drops down on the side of the street, knees hit hard first on the worn concrete and in the cold rain water.
Head held to the sky feeling discouraged and self despised, he lets go and gives in to himself. No more fighting he stops takes a deep breath and decides to no longer try.

"Yes sir. No sir. Left sir. Right sir.", Whatever he says to the responses in his head, he says out loud. The ones taking control don't give him room to move back in and take over. He's lost, not in the right mind, no booze or drugs in his system at the moment and he's still no where near sober.

He has gun in his ripped and worn second hand store coat pocket. With a liquor store on the left, no cash and in need of booze. He walks in with his greasy dark shoulder length hair dripping wet. With a nasty grin it all begins.

The tall thin man with needle marks in the veins of his hand pulls out the revolver. With uncontrollable shakes and mind that he no longer owns; the frighteningly unkempt man of the streets prays for forgiveness, knowing he can't stop it.
Pointing the gun at the frightened young cashier, he c***s it.

Staring at the beauty, trying to force an apology from his dark grey eyes to the bright blue jewels that are hers. A recoil, a bang, tears and pain she's gone. The rest for him became a blur.

He wakes up leaning against a dumpster in a dirty alley sharing his life with used needles, cardboard houses and the scurrying rats.

It's a new day with a horrible headache, a gun in his lap, half an empty bottle of whiskey and a pocket full of cash he takes a pull. The pain dulls and after a few more swigs, it disappears. Yet the voices are still coming back. Continually chanting and repeating it over and over, “Hi buddy, hi friend have you missed me?”, "Hi buddy, hi friend, have you missed me? ".
He drinks and he drinks not taking a breath of fresh air, trying to escape from them as fast as he can. He has almost escaped as the eery chant's volume begins to fall. He continues to turn the noise further and further down. There's a very long way to go until they can't be heard.
The smile on his face quickly dissolves into a frown as the precious antidote to his uncontrollable actions is too light for comfort. Unfortunately in a few moments later his bottle is empty.

Once again disturbed, he feels defeat with no ending to see.
They're coming back louder and louder. As expected, once again it's beginning.

Thunder strikes and it's starting to pour.
He's standing in a puddle failing to look casually down at his feet. This men umongst man is trying his hardest to distinguish what he hears and sees as fiction or reality.
All he wants is to be a normal guy or at least something better. Once again he fights his own private battle that's daily and forever.

Author's Note

What do you think?