The Voice

You’re so lazy, says the voice in my head, annoyed at me before I even wake up.

No one else is up yet, I protest – but the voice is always right, and won’t be denied.

You’re so ugly, the voice goes on spitefully as I dress, forcing me to stop and stare at my bony, pallid body, reflected mercilessly in the mirror.

I’m just average, I force myself to say, though it’s impossible to believe the words with the scorn of the voice echoing through my head.

No wonder no one likes you, the voice mocks when I stumble in the corridor on my way to class, raising humiliating laughter from those around me.

Everyone has bad days, I argue wearily; already today the hateful voice has worn me down, but still I try in vain to not listen to it.

They’re all staring at you, the voice points out in the middle of each class, while I try to fade into my desk and become invisible.

Why would they look at me? I’m nothing. Stating this fact seems to silence the voice for a while, but it never lasts long. It knows my every flaw better than I do.

You’re so alone, the voice starts again at the end of the school day, as I pass between groups of friends making plans and walking home together.

I don’t need friends, I lie, ignoring the fact that the voice is in my head and no doubt knows the truth.

Why do you even bother trying? The voice asks once get home, seeming genuinely puzzled as I huddle on my bed, numbed from being so utterly useless.

I don’t even have the energy to respond this time, finally giving in and letting the voice win for today, even though it means dealing with the disgust that seems to seep into every part of me when I surrender.

You’re so pathetic...

I know.