What a great day I was going to have. I ran almost all of the way to the lake. I remember arriving at the lake and waiting for my friends to arrive. I wasn't waiting for long when the voice, no, the voices started. There was more than one voice and each had a very different sound. I could clearly tell them apart. They started telling me all kind of stuff and then they would talk to each other. When they talked back and forth I had no idea what they were saying. In fact, I don't really know that you would call it talking. I guess the only reason I thought they were talking back and forth was when one noise stopped another would begin. It was really scarring me. When they talked to me I would understand every word and then I wouldn't understand a thing.
What I want to tell you now is what my mother told me. These are the things she saw at home and later by the tombs. That day i went to play was the last day that I was OK, or normal, or whatever you want to say. But things changes real fast that evening. Instead of being home to eat I was late. My mother told me she knew something was wrong when I didn't get home to eat. She heard me screaming and crying way down the road and she ran to see what was wrong with me. She said I was all covered in blood and that my hand was smashed and my fingers were broken. In my tears I told her all about the voices and how long they have been troubling me. I told here that the first time I hit my hand it was not an accident.
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