It was a small square room with a single window in the middle of the ceiling, letting in light, but very little. The room was dark and thick with dust. It was cold and damp with chipped and peeling paint on the walls. In the center sat a single man, curled up in a fetal position. He rocked back and fort murmuring things to himself, inaudible things that faded away into the nothingness that surrounded him. He was talking back to the voices in his head. They whispered things at him, terrible things that made him afraid. Never before had he been so afraid, and no one was helping him. Fear was griping at his very throat and his breathing was heavy and rapid. Tears spilled from his eyes uncontrollably and he pulled at his hair over and over again. The voices would not leave him alone, they echoed around his mind. No matter how many times he told them to leave they never left, only grew louder. His whole body ached and shook and trembled and it was all he could do to not scream at the top of his lungs. But his mutterings went on and on, the tears continued to fall, an his body continued to shake. The fear was always there and ever present, it would not go away. The voices would not leave him alone. He just wanted them to leave him alone! Why would they not just go AWAY!
Then a door opened and a voice called out his name. The voice was not in his head, it was not his own, it was a woman, calling his name. Calling him back to reality. Because the voices...they were not reality. They weren't real. They weren't real. They weren't real...
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