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According to Dutch psychologists, 1 in 25 people hear voices.

I wish I could see them.

There's nothing more annoying than hearing your name called from behind you or the direction of the doorway only for nothing to be there.

At first, I was alright.
They were my friends.

Later, they began telling me things that weren't true.

She's cheating on you, Michael.
She's disrespecting you, Michael.
Come out from under the covers, Michael.

They were trying to get me pumped up.

I wanted to end it all. I couldn't take all this influence and pressure from nonexistent things. No teen aged boy should have to deal with peer pressure, let alone pressure from voices.

As a little boy, I was more curious about my invisible friends.
Where did they come from?
Why were they talking to me and no one else?
Who were these guys?

Now I just want them gone.

But you love us, Michael.

I don't want them back ever again.

You don't mean that, Michael.

They made me do things that no person could ever convince me to do.
I robbed a store.
I stole candy from a baby and then taunted it for the hell of it.
I cheated on tests I knew the answers to.
I slept on the cold floor because they wanted me to.
Because they wanted me to.

You wanted to, Michael. We just helped.

They used to comfort me.
Their soft, melodramatic voices were like white noise to me.
They could say one word and make me feel new again.

Michael...

They could induce self-esteem in me.
They could drown me in courage.

Now, all they did was take it away.

The Voices are with me every step of the way.
They taught me about life and death.
How to be the best I can be.
Why I should live.
They taught me my reason to be here.

Now I'm on my final words.
They are not my friends anymore.
It's to the point where I'm invisible to them.

That's not true, Michael.

In an argument, I take the strong points.
I lead the conversation.

No more dead dogs.

I'm in control.

Now, I'm lying here.

And there's nothing you can do about it.

You can't teach me not to die.

After one last glance at the ceiling fan, I gasped before laying down forever. I'm leaving, and I'm taking you guys with me.

Fuck you, Michael.