Through the World

You are not the same. So tell me, who is it exactly?

I pause, trying to think back to the first time that I had heard the voice. I question everything that had happened all throughout the day, looking at myself as some sort of evil monstrosity. I am jumbled —frantically thinking and taking in the amount of time that has past.

‘So you mean to tell me...’

Why ask? You already know the answer to it.

I raise my hand to see it, questioning even that of my own body. What has become of me? What would become of me?

Calm down, keep calm. Think back to what has happened...

All along… all throughout the day, I was thinking of it as my own. I stare at the palm of both of my hands, clenching and unclenching them. For whatever hope I had left, I had believed it to make a difference. As if I can see it. I think back to what I had just heard, it was ominous and menacing.

‘What changed? Was there something that I did to make it talk? Am I going insane?’

I am almost more fascinated in myself just finding out now. I try to relax my arms and hands, sitting on my bed, as I looked more confused then I have ever looked in my life. It was at this moment, that I had come to my senses —this moment, that I knew my life was permanently changed. That voice is not of my own —and for once, I am not alone... even in my own thoughts.