Crazy

'Enough! You know what, you are crazy! Psycho! You need a doctor.'

When she hears something like that, fear grips her.

She remembers the crazy woman who is often found murmuring to herself in the lane leading to that bus-stop and a boy who throws stones at people who call him crazy.

She shakes uncontrollably as the thousand snakes of thoughts bite her to dizziness.

'NO, I can't be crazy. I am fine.'
She blurts out to herself, her own voice seems unrecognizable and oddly shrill.

'You know how crazy that sounded?' The Small Voice Inside Her Head whispers.

Beads of cold sweat cover her forehead. She sinks down into a roadside bench. She gives a slip to people around her to walk so fast in the hope that she outsmarts the devil in her head. She sits alone by the window sipping cold water just to stop herself from shaking.

'YES. I AM FUCKING BATSHIT CRAZY! SO NOW WHAT?' She gives up one day.

'Pick up your pen and write.' The Small Voice Inside Her Head chimes in, 'That's the only socially accepted form of madness.'