--= Jack's + POV =--

They riddled among themselves pointlessly as I stared. They're both idiots. Mark is too obsessive. And Felix is too similar to the natural behaviour of a lamb. He follows what he thinks is worth it and safe, and never decides to take a risk.

Mark is too possessive, obsessive, I would slash them both down if I could have. But no. My duty here is something far greater than that, if I did anything stupid. I'd be sent back to the asylum or if I wasn't obedient. Then being shot would replace the peacefulness.

Their freedom annoyed me, and though I don't have the heart to tell them I silently judge as I stare. Innocence is an act. It always will be. And it always has been. Purity and innocence do go hand in hand, and that's why betrayal works so well.

I have no knives, I have no weapons or the strength to take them both down hands on without a weapon. I doubt I could beat them hands on alone. These thoughts, are what really make me feel as if I am insane. What if everyone else is psycho, and I'm the only sane one left?

What happens, if everyone was put under some kind of lulling, alluring spell or curse where I'm the only one whom knows what's going on in the situation. The world is a fucked up place. We wage wars on people we dislike.

We bully the outcasts so that we feel like we fit in. We starve to look beautiful and we tease the beings we want to be. I hate myself. I am peace and I am war. I am hate and I am love. I have a love for others yet I hate myself.

If I had to choose, between killing a million people or killing myself, I would definitely kill myself. Not because I don't want the million of people to die, but rather because, I want to save myself the grievance of hating myself more.

I could care less who took the end of that blade, even Mark and Felix I could not care less about..........So why did I do that? I didn't even mean to I just assumed what was going to happen, I KNEW what was going to happen.

What happened to the man who stood to the side and laughed at it all? What happened, to the idiot who was stuck in the asylum because his parents and anyone who fostered him had abandoned him.

What happens to the man who realises he's changing. It's obvious my days are growing tighter by the minute. There is rarely any chance to breathe. I know how many breaths I take a day in that asylum, it's what keeps me going.

Seeing how slow I can breathe, seeing how long I can go without, how many I can take in a minute or how many it takes to feel light headed. Breathing keeps me sane. Not the people inside. Not the others who are captured in there with me.

It's a psychological prison, and to keep the time going, to know you're still alive.....The best thing to do is to breathe. And I know you're listening. You damned voices inside my head, cheering me on, telling me I'll lose. Screaming in fear, laughing at my pain.

I know you're looking. In fact, you emotional bastards are probably reading my thoughts as I go along right now, aren't you?

....Yeah, I thought so.

Well, if you are, welcome, this is the flip side of my brain. The side where I can make excuses all day long, explain myself, tell myself reasons and keep myself sane for as long as I can. I know how many days I have left.

And I can't tell anybody. Not Mark. Not Felix. Not a random stranger. NOBODY. I cannot speak to anyone because they already think I'm insane enough as it is. This, damage. To my head kills me every time.

It's the only time of the day where things go quiet, I manage to elude reality for a little while and have thoughts as I can. I am lucky enough to be functional to at least SEEM sane. Especially when talking to Mark or Felix.

The first time I had seen Mark, I had hated him. I kept a smile on, and forced myself to seem the happiest.....I wasn't in control.

That wasn't.....Me.

It's a tough thing to explain, and though you'll more than likely pity me, laugh at me, or forget about it. But I do hear what you say. For those who encourage me, thanks, but no thanks. The ones who laugh? Go ahead.

We'll all stop our opinions one day. We'll be gone. I am just a sad story to tell, a depressing tale whose novel which is being written down as the seconds go by, has no happy ending.

I already know what's going to happen to me. I can feel it. I know it. I see it so vividly, it's like when people say they can see the light? Well, what if that's not death. What if it's, the end of your life?

The end of who you are?

It's 4 PM on the clock, and although there is nobody around, and if there is, I can't hear you as I speak but.......My time of peace is up for now. I can only do this so often, so I might be able to do it in the future but with the little time I have left I.....I don't know....

I'll let you watch on The Flip Side, but for now, live as long as you can, laugh as long as you can, and be the best you can actually be. 

Until reality stops in it's tracks again, I shall let you stare as I struggle on the flip side. Where insanity does it's very finest, to strike me down......

Goodbye voices.....