Haha, yours wasn't anywhere as late as mine. It is no problem. WC: 764
Itzal winced as he remembered hearing the voices, hearing their sweet, persuasive voices. He remembered hearing them scream, like they were burning, as it echoed around his head and made him kneel on the ground, trying to block it out. He remembered talking back. He heard all kind of voices once, but they had always tortured him, they sometimes told him to do things, he remembered he had listened, but he couldn't remember what it was he had done. There was a wall there, blocking the memories. He had put it up, just like when he had become a killer. But that wall had collapsed slowly, he slowly remembered the times he had killed, as he killed more, but not the insane killing that he had once done. Now he remembered some of the time he had lost control and killed without mercy. But the time with the voices, the deeds they asked him to do, and that he had done, were still blocked. The wall blocking them was strong, so it must have been a terrible time. He did not try to remember, he knew it would bring pain, and it might cause him to go back to that time. He shivered at the thought. He did not realize he had even closed his eyes until he opened them, coming back to the present and hearing Axelle's words. He nodded to himself, still turned with his back to her.
He let out a shakey sigh. "Picking around inside my brain isn't exactly the smartest thing to do. I'm not a good person to try and figure out. I try to live with the basics, never diving to deep into my own mind. My mind is shattered, and there are a bunch of diffrent pieces left. Some I might not even know about. And I'm fine with leaving it that way. You can try and figure me out, but you won't like any of what you find. I'm not a good person. I'm a bad person, and I live with that. I've killed, I've destroyed lives, good ones. I've done what I have to survive, I'm not sure that makes it right, but I can't change any of it now. I don't expect any good treatment. But one thing I have learned, is living with what I have done, and living, knowing I'm broken, is a lot easier if I don't try and figure everything out, and if I don't look to closely at what I am, and what my past has been. You should know all of this before you probe any deeper, because, like I said before, you won't like what you find." He said it in a rush, trying to show her that he knew he was messed up, and that he accepted it, and that he wasn't a good person, and that she should know that before she went any deeper into his head then she thought she already was. There was a reason people didn't trust him, and why people didn't try to understand him. Because he did not understand himself exactly, and because he was broken.
He looked at her, turning to face her, his eyes void of any emotion, his body relaxed. He had closed up, he was protecting himself from what he was. He looked at her and a little. "I don't hear any anymore. I use to, and there is always a chance I will again. I don't hide it, it is just my past is very..complicated to me. And I try not to disturb what is better left alone. And I'm not sure you do understand. You might think you do, but there are something, no one else can understand about you, there are things you can't even understand about yourself." He sighed and closed his eyes, enjoying the slight breeze that ran over his fur. He opened his eyes, looking at her and listening to her story of her father's own voices in his head. He nodded sometimes. When he heard her finally words, and saw her look away, he nodded one more time, slowly. "I'm sorry. That is terrible. I can't relate, but I know it was probably hard for you. Messed up things happen all the time in life. They might be wrong, they might hurt people, even kill them. But they happen, and it is better if we accept that, and try our hardest to live through them." He looked at her and did not say anything more, letting her silence the she probalby wanted, and letting her think.
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