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The Eclectic Pen - I'm Not Crazy

By: Sarah C. (campbellsoup)   + 3 more  
Date Submitted: 3/5/2011
Genre: Literature & Fiction » Poetry
Words: 451
Rating:

I’m not crazy, at least not yet. The little red men inside me tell me I’m not crazy, and they never lie. Unlike the doctors in white coats who stick my arm with long needles. I tell them I’m not crazy I’ve never killed an animal, even a spider. I don’t know why people don’t like spiders, their long little legs tap out messages that only I can understand. The little red men tell me what they say, it’s so fun to hear things other people don’t. Like before they brought me to this white room (I hate white. Did you know that? It just goes on forever. I don’t like things that don’t end) the man at the end of our street killed his wife. I knew he was going to kill her, the little red men could read his mind. They said his thoughts stunk. I always wondered what the strange smell was. I guess now I know. I don’t think I’m crazy. I have to go to a special doctor who makes me talk all the time. I never know what to say so the little red men tell me things to say. Sometimes they can say the funniest things. I don’t think the doctor likes them though. She asked where I heard those things, and I told her about the little red men. She didn’t say anything but she frowned. I don’t like that doctor. The little red men are my friends, and they don’t like her either. She said that before I came here I tried to hurt myself. I don’t remember that. I would never hurt myself. The little red men wouldn’t let me. They’re scared of going away, they’re scared of the dark; but I don’t mind it. It’s better than white. It doesn’t hurt my eyes. I hope I’m not crazy. The little red men still say I’m not, but they’re being mean to me. They say that I don’t listen to them, that I don’t like them anymore. They talk so loud they’re hurting my head. I tell the doctors but they don’t listen to me. They just stick me with more needles. That makes the men sleep for a while, but when they wake up they’re just louder. I know how to get rid of them, I have to cut them out. They won’t come out by themselves. I stole some of the doctor’s needles from his pocket. They’re hidden in my bed. Today after I eat I’ll get them, and then I can go home. Because you see…without the little red men I won’t be crazy anymore. I told you I’m not crazy.

The Eclectic Pen » All Stories by Sarah C. (campbellsoup)

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