Thomas Topin

Thomas approached his bathroom, trying to ignore the invisible eyes that followed his every move. It made him increasingly nervous. He needed his medication, deseperatly.
Rather hastily, Thomnas ripped open the cabinet, and snatched up his pill bottle. This was his salvation; two pills would make the eyes that follow him disappear. However, he'd been told many atimes that the eyes that followed him were never even there. It was fruitless to argue, to protest, Thomas reasoned. That's why he took the medicine.
With two pills in hand, he filled a dixie cup up with water. Thomas lifted his first pill to his lips. Don't you dare try to swallow that.
"What the hell?" Thomas nearly shouted. He whirled around, looking for the voice that had startled him. Nobody was with him, and he knew that.
You heard me. Don't you dare swallow that damn pill! The voice was everywhere at once. Thomas couldn't determine whether or not it was a female speaking, or a male. It was menacing, dripping with venom. Thomas immediately dropped the pill. There was a mutual sound of the pill hitting the granit counter, then bouncing off on to the floor.
"What do you want from me?" He asked, trying in vain to keep the fear from entering his voice.
Dump all the pills down the toliet. Thomas hesitated, causing the voice to scream, NOW!
Out of fear, Thomas obeyed, and dumped all his medication down the toliet. He flushed it before the voice could instruct him to do next. Deep inside his head, Thomas knew that dumping the pills was an idiotic thing to do. That medication could have made the voice go away. But, he also reasoned that doing what the voice wished would also make it go away.
Good boy. You read my mind. It's tone had changed severely. It had gone from venomous, dangerous, to casual, almost as if he and the voice were good friends.
"Please, just go away," Thomas wined, bending over the counter on his elbows, head in hands. He knew that he quite literally watched his only means of sanity wash down the drain.
I'll go away... If you do one favour.
"Anything." Desperation was coating his voice.
Kill Sarah.
Thomas wretched himself upright, glaring at himself in the mirror. Sarah was the love of his life. His girlfriend. The women he was planning on marrying.
"No. Absolutely not." He stated. He would not do anything to harm the girl he loved unconditionally.
You'll do it. I'll make you.
She's no good. Sarah's cheating on you, Thomas. She's been sleeping with another man. 
You don't like that, do you Thomas? Huh? You don't. I know you don't. 
She deserves to die. You know she does, Thomas. You want her die.
You want her to die. 
You want to kill her. 
"STOP IT!" Thomas shouted, unable to stand the multiple voices inside his head. It was all too much, he couldn't take it. Thomas would do anything to make them stop.
We'll leave you alone, we promise. You just kill Sarah. '
You want to, Thomas. I know you do. 
You want to. Thomas, you want to kill Sarah. 
You want to.
"I'll do it... Just go away..." Thomas barely squeaked. Little did he know that those voices were only inside his head, that he was losing his grip on reality. He didn't understand that he had just agreed to kill his loving girlfriend. Thomas merely thought that he was silencing the voices that only dwelled inside his mind.
The voices egged Thomas on, as he ran out to his car. Breathing heavily, Thomas sped rather recklessly down the road. He took no notice of other cars. Inside his head, the voices were lavishing him in confidence, and encouragement. The voices were making Thomas drive much faster, and more erratic than he'd ever driven in his life.
Thomas was barely aware of his own thoughts. It was only what the voices were saying. That was all that mattered. Kill Sarah. Kill Sarah. Kill Sarah. It was repeated so many times, he had begun to chant along with them. He needed to kill Sarah. He had to. It was the only way.
Once he reached Sarah's house, he slammed on the breaks. Thomas didn't kill the engine, instead, in a blind rush of desperation, he sprinted up the stone stairs to the front door. Instictively, he thrust his shoulder into the door, to no avail. The voice began to become impatient, angry even, that he couldn't get inside. They shouted at him, GET THE DAMN DOOR OPEN! GET IT OPEN, NOW! 
Growing impatient himself, Thomas dolted down the stairs, and searched for anything that might be of assistance. Thomas threw a glance behind him at his still running car, and instantly got an idea; use the winsheild wipers.
With strength he didn't know he possessed, Thomas ripped one wiper from the car, and bolted back up the steps. He beat the window, causing it to crack. Angry it didn't break, he brutally bashed the window into a thousand thing shards. Smiling to himself, he reached in his hand, and unlocked the door. Thomas kicked the door, ignoring the pain in his hand from the broken glass shards.
Gripping the windshield wiper thightly, he rushed around each room, looking savagely for Sarah. FIND HER, FIND HER, FIND HER! GOD DAMMIT, FIND HER! YOU IDIOT, YOU CAN'T FIND HER! YOU'RE SO FREAKING WORTHLESS. WORTHLESS! 
Thomas rounded the corner, head pounding from the multiple voices yelling at him. His body collided with another: Sarah.
He saw her open her mouth to say something, but his hand that held the makeshift weapon silenced her with a blow to the head. Sarah collapsed, bleeding heavily from the side of her head. Thomas thought that once he'd hit her, the voices would subside. But they didn't.
Kill her! She's still breathing! Look! Can't you see that she's still alive!? KILL HER! 
Get a knife. Stab her. STAB HER! 
You know you want to do it, Thomas. You can't escape that. You want to kill the bitch who cheated on you. YOU WANT TO!!
With a grunt, Thomas plunged the windshield wiper into Sarah's stomach. Her eyes shot open, wide with every emotion from fear to agony. Blood had spurted out of her mouth, and trickled down her chin. Thomas felt a strange sense of pride, and happiness even, from seeing that blood dribble down her face. He needed that feeling to stay.
Thomas made a mad dash for the kitchen, looking for anythinf sharp that might be used to make more blood spill from Sarah's body. Wretching open cabinets, and searching counter tops, Thomas didn't stop until he found all the sharp objects he could think off in a drawer. He grabbed two handfuls, yet again ignoring the pain of the sharp blades piercing his skin.
When he returned, Sarah had her hands over the spot on her stomach where Tomas had stabbed her. Tears were gushing out of her eyes, like blood gushing out of a wound. He noticed how she was trying to pull out the windshelid wiper.
Almost as if he were no longer in control of his body, Thomas ripped her hand away, and used a steak knife to pin her arm to the ground. It sunk through her upper arm, but it didn't exit at first. Enraged, Thomas shoved harder on the knife, causing it to sink into the floor. Sarah screamed out in agony, blood flowing in a steady stream from her mouth.
Her screaming will blow your cover, cut her tongue out! CUT IT OUT, NOW!!
Obeying, Thomas shoved his fingers inside Sarah's mouth, warm with blood, and gripped her tongue. using a butcher knife, he severed her tongue off in one swift motion of his hand. Blood filled her mouth, and she coughed and sputtered, struggling to breath with her mouthful of blood. Thomas smiled grimly to himself.
Sarah was groaning in a gurgled sort of way that made Thomas swell satisfaction. Blood was oozing out of her mouth like a waterfall, down her chin, and neck.
Impuslively, grabbed another makeshift instrument of murder, a tiny butter knife. Thomas used the tiny knife to channel his anger. He cut away at Sarah's shirt, and carved, "CHEATER" into her abdomen. Though it didn't make him feel better, he plunged the tiny knife next to the windshield wiper. It was in hilt-deep, only half an inch was visible.
Sarah's body had gone limp. It seemed that, to Thomas, Sarah had lost her will to live. With a few instruments left at his disposal, he wanted her desepratly to stay alive. Thomas needed her to stay alive.
His fingers fell upon an apple cutter. Thomas grabbed it, and shoved the bladed sie into her thigh. Sarah didn't respond. It didn't look as if she was even breathing anymore. Blood gushed out, but she didn't look like she had felt pain. Disappointed, Thomas went for the pizza cutter.
He sank the cutter deep into the arm he had stabbed, and pinned to the floor. Blood came, but it was slow, as if she was running low. Thomas needer her stay alive. He wasn't finished with her, yet.
With only a butcher knife left, he grabbed a fistful of her golden brown hair, and scraped the skin away from her scalp. Little blood flowed.
Thomas stared at the chunk of skin and blood-soaked hair in his hands. Where were the voices?
You're such an idiot! Look what you did! You're a sick bastard, Thomas.
How could you kill Sarah? She loved you, Thomas. How could you betray her like that?
'She gives you love, and this is how you repay her?
"But you told me to!" Thomas half shouted, feeling the panic begin to rise inside him.
'If I told you to jump off a cliff, would you do it? '
Idiot.
Gulliable.
Stupid. 
Damned to hell for all eterity. You deserve to burn in hell for this.
How could you?
His throat began to constrict, tears parading down his cheeks. Thomas looked on at his mutilated girlfriend. He couldn't quite wrap his head around the fact that he had just killed his girlfriend. No-, he didn't just kill her, he had tortured her. Thomas had promised to love this girl for all his life, and now she was dead by his hand. She had suffered unspeakable pain because of him.
How could he?
Oh, come on, Thomas. Crying? Really? 
You're such a baby. It's one girl, Thomas. Suck it up, and move on- 
"BUT I LOVED HER! I loved...her"
You couldn't have loved her. 
You killed Sarah. 
"'You made me" Thomas whispered.
I never made you do anything, Thomas. 
You acted of your own accord. 
"What?" Thomas barely whispered, feeling a tight, knotted pain begin to develope in his chest.
'This is all your fault, Thomas. You did this because you wanted to. 
"What you wanted me to!" He sobbed, doubling over, clutching his chest.
But I'm only you, Thomas. 
I don't exist. 
Category:Mental Illness