The voice

The sun is finally coming up! I can hear the birds beginning to sing outside my window. I am dripping with sweat from tossing and turning all night. I need to get up but I feel so unsteady right now. I just lay in bed and look at the ceiling fan turning overhead. Nearly a half an hour passes before I hear the first bus stop by the corner. I know it is just before 6:30 am but I am not really feeling it today. I want to stay in bed, but my bladder forces me to get up and go pee. Man, I just hate times like this. I get out of the bathroom, and the coffee maker has clicked on. I can smell the Columbian roast slowly brewing. I head to kitchen and out of the corner of my eye I see it laying there. I cannot succumb, not right now! I have too much to do today. I make it to the coffee, but the voice inside my head tells me you know you want to! No, I am screaming in my mind! Not right now, I have to work. I put my coffee cup down and head to the shower. I turn it on and step into an ice-cold torrent of water. My body seems to freak out but then the shivers pass and I get used to the water. I take my time as I wash away the restlessness. I let the cold rush through me like a cleansing of a spiritual sort. I really cannot stand the cold, but neither can the voice in my head. I get out of the shower dripping onto the bathmat. I look into the mirror at my blood shot eyes. I know that I am not going to be much good at work today, but I have to go. It is like a necessity to keep me occupied in order to maintain control.

The morning at work starts kind of slow. I have only one commercial job this morning and I have a crew onsite before I arrive. It is a local store that caught fire. I can smell the charred food that was burned up. I listen to the insurance people and the cops talking. They say it definitely looks like Arson. Suddenly the voice in my head comes back. I yell for it to be silent, but it won't shut up! I proceed to oversee the cleanup. I take photos of the area and we start. It takes 5 hours for us to remove all of the debris and ruined stock. Once we are done, I write up the invoice for the insurance company and a copy to the owner. The construction guys cannot come in until we have finished, giving an assessment and invoiced the cost. I see a car pull up, and the city inspector steps out. He is a portly looking man. Not to competent looking from his appearance but he might be corrupt. I look at him and nothing. The voice is silent. I guess he doesn't rate my attention. So on to the next job.

I get home at 6pm, when I walk in the door it is waiting there for me. This time the voice returns. With a loud thundering scream, it comes back! I cannot ignore it! I close and lock the door behind me and walk over to the toolbox. I open it as if I am on autopilot. Inside are the tools of my trade. I make sure the shades are pulled then I go to the kitchen table. One by one I lay out the implements that make the voice go silent. A small hammer, knives of varying degrees of sharpness. I see the silk bindings. The ones I have are fresh. You never want to reuse material the voice says. As if upon command, I sit down and begin to view the items. Each one is so clean and precise. Each one serves a specific purpose. After a length of time, I come back to myself. The images of what each item did the last time are still fresh in my head. It took 2 days on the last one. In my head the voice says he deserved it!. How can you kick out your wife and children for your “ WHORE” of a mistress! He had it coming, at least that is what the voice says. I still have the news paper clipping saved in my scrap book. Local business man disappears, but we both know what really happened! The wife will likely be a suspect then the mistress, but we both know what really happened. He received his justice for how he treated his family. It was so easy you see. No, stop I don't want to hear about it!. I am clamoring around trying to find my medication. The voice says don't take those pills! You know they really don't help!

I have to take them, if I don't, I will lose what little of myself there is left. I have to take them! It sometimes seems that it is the only thing keeping me sane.

I get calmed down and head out. It is around 2045 hrs. I think in military time much too often. I spent 5 years in the Army and 3 years in combat operations overseas. I got shot once through the helmet and was lucky to be alive. Only a piece of the bullet entered my skull. It didn't do too much damage they say, but it seems the world hasn't been right to me since. I go down the street to my favorite diner. The cute waitress middle aged waitress that waits on me is right on cue. She comes up and pours me a glass of ice water. She grins and says she will be back in a bit. I am never really sure what I want to eat here, the food isn't really great, but I enjoy the atmosphere. She seems so much happier now that her ex abusive boyfriend is gone. Oh, I didn't mention him did I! He used to berate her and come steal her tips. One night he got into it with her and he knocked over my coffee into my lap. The manager here almost fired her, but I stood up and scared the “SHIT” out of the boyfriend and the manager withone leer. I really don't remember it much; it was the other guy that did the staring. I just know that when I came to my senses in the bathroom, I was shaking and in a cold sweat. When I came out the manager said that the meal was on me as if it wasn't already. I sat down and finished my food. As I left, I put a 50-dollar bill in a napkin and told her I would see her around. Ever since then, she has been a different person. It only took a few hours to deal with him. He was not a very good person. He was very weak, at least that is what the voice tells me. I still have the news clippings in the scrap book. He just up and vanished, he will not be found. Though there is a kind of dramatic irony to know that he is sitting on someones mantel in a bronze jar for many years to come. I stop thinking about the waitress and her problems and finish my meal. It is getting late and I have a long day tomorrow. I get back to my apartment and take more pills. No response from the voice, my day dream about the waitress must have quieted it. The pills will make sure it stays silent while I sleep.

It hasn't been easy since I got back from overseas. It took me years to find some bearing and stability. When I first came back, I spent months in the hospital. I did get a lot of medals and meritorious promotion to staff sergeant before getting my discharge. I qualified for 90 percent disability is what the VA told me. I wasn't sure what I was going to do. I left the hospital and returned home. My parents were glad to have me back on the surface, I guess. My soon to be ex-girlfriend took my kid and went back to her parents. I guess she couldn't deal with having to be around me or perhaps she sensed something that I didn't yet understand. I crept around town for a few months; I was out late at night. Finally, my dad confronted me and said I needed something to occupy my time. So, I ended up working at a local funeral home. I was the night driver. I got to go out and pick up the bodies. It turns out that this was the very thing I needed. I got to see people as they truly are. The facade of who they tried to be is stripped away. I became interested in the work. I didn't have to spend much time around the public. I only had to pick up their loved ones and take them to be embalmed and prepared for burial. That job lasted for 4 years and it gave me a valid excuse as to why kept late hours. It also let me see the truth about human nature. I would linger around services waiting to take the body to the cemetery or the crematory. I would hear the whispers from family and friends. He or she was a good person, or I wonder why they didn't leave me anything. It was towards the end of the 4 years that I he appeared. I could hear the faint echo of a voice at first. Then it began to grow louder. I did go to the VA once or twice and I told the doctor I was hearing things. I framed it as echoes of combat. They just reevaluated me and threw some pills at me. That was 6 years ago and so many people since then. I will soon need to get a new scrap book . The one I have is getting full as of late. I like my current job much better than the funeral home. I work in an environment that allows me to go all over the city and sometimes beyond. I get to live in the back ground if you will. No one ever notices the guy who takes out the trash or cleans up other peoples messes. That is what the voice tells me at least. I make a good living and I put my VA benefits away for my kid. I am not sure how long it will go on, but I just know I have to be strong and try to put it off as long as I can. I cannot let the voice win again!