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Her  m a d n e s s  was the result of an unfortunate series of events. The epilogue came to a halt as she was  b r o k e n  from her articulate ailment.

Feared he was…scared was she…. so she thought.

The day flew by, yet the night seemed too long and under the docks she hid.  Unknown to her he traced her every move and she ended up being watched down by the shore. Minute by minute and hour by hour. There was a slight breeze that evening and she knew deep down it could be her last.

Fever broke in the city as she became accustomed to the sweat dripping off her forehead from the heat. Heartbeats ran faster and blood pressure was raised higher. With nowhere else to run she ended up finding a cave. Darkness encompassed her but she felt safer there than near the outside world. He had never spoken to her as she deserved. Caves share internal apprehension as they are surrounded by cold clay with hieroglyphics scattered across the rounded walls, causing her more confusion.

She found an old blanket lying near her. It was raggedy and torn as if the owner used it for far too long. Curled up in a ball she heard a noise that sounded like his voice. Frightened she put her head up to her knees and prayed for her freedom. Strange whispers surrounded her agony and as each ear tried to interpret the words the more confused she became. No longer would she ever be healthy again.

Her family didn’t care about her throughout her malady. It wasn’t her fault. The doctors all said the same thing to her growing up and into her adulthood. She would never recover from this disorder. It was sad, really. The voices would never go away. No medicine could cure it, and no psychotherapy would ease her disarray. She would always feel anxiety from the unwanted enunciations and delusions crowding her brain. 

She had never been stalked. She had never been watched from afar. There was never a feared man following her trying to make her suffer. It was all inauspicious sounds her ill brain created. People called her crazy and insane. It was too much for her and one day she just gave up. The ending of this story remains not a mystery but a tragedy. Even though her death was catastrophic, it was not a surprise.

Now she lies in a tomb covered in mossy ferns with tiny green
vines w h i s p e r i  n g  voices in her grave.




*This is a story about a woman who suffers from schizophrenia. It is a brain disorder in which people interpret reality abnormally. Hearing voices, delusions, memory loss and compulsive behavior a only a few symptoms. I can't imagine going through life living in such utter confusion*

Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron
Date Written: August 21, 2016
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