• The word murder was running through his mind. Thats all he ever thought about. Everyone messed for with because he heard voices.
    "I have Schizophrenia!" The man yelled out of nowhere.
    A few people stopped to look at what the man was yelling about, then went back to what they were doing.
    "Why?" one of his voices spoke silently.
    "Why must you yell?" Another, more meaner voice spoke.
    "Just shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!" He screamed. Tears were staring to swell in his eye's.
    Out of his anger, he started slamming his fist on the table in front of him. The people around him started to leave, others, the more nosy people stayed and watched. The man pounded his fist once more before a stranger came up to him. It was a cop.
    "Sir.." The officer hesitated." Are you okay?"
    Instantly he turned to the officer.
    "Do it.. Hit him.." The meaner voice spoke, He isn't your friend. He wants to hurt you." the voice continued with its rant. "He has a gun. That pig plans to put you out of your misery.."
    The man clenched his fist, and let out a grunt.
    Swinging at full force, he punched the officer in the face. The officer fell to the ground, and reached for his gun. Before he could even grab it, the man was on top of him, swinging at his face.
    Once he knew the cop wasn't going to move, he took the gun, and examined it.
    The officer reached to his radio." Officer down!, I repeat. Officer down!" The cop spoke as loud as he could.
    In the background, of all the commotion, sirens from ambulances and cop cars could be heard.
    "Do it..." A creepy dark voice spoke," He was going to hurt you..."
    The trigger clicked, there was screaming, yelling, and crying. Little kids and their parents fled.
    The trigger clicked again, this target was different. It was a boy, about the age of fourteen. Instantly the boy fell to the ground. He wasn't dead, just wounded.
    Few new cars entered the area.

    Megaphones were blaring into all the noise.
    "Drop the gun!" One cop yelled." Put it down, we can help you!"
    "Put..it..down..." The dark voice mocked the officer.
    Another bullet left the chamber of the gun, no one was struck. A cop let a bullet fly, it tucked into the shoulder of the crazed man.
    Still knowing the man was wounded, no one moved. The man looked at his shoulder, staring now with hatred. One more bullet left the mans chamber, striking an officer in the next. Blood started to pour from the bullet wound.
    Bullets flew at the man. He darted towards an alley way. Leaving nothing but a small trail of blood, he was gone.
    The cops pursued their target. Left and right he ran, knowing not where he was heading. He entered a dead end.
    [********" he said to himself.
    "We're going to die" The dark voice sung happily.
    A more gentle voice spoke," We will get out of this.."
    "Shut the ******** up!" he yelled to himself. Looking at the doors in the alley, he found one that had a pad lock.
    Once decided, he raised the gun to the lock, and let another bullet go. Now that the door was open, he could continue oh his way.
    In the distance, the cops released the beast's of scent. He could hear them, speaking, and yelling in their native language.

    Walking down the dim-lit hallway, a trail of blood was left on the wall. He had his hand on his shoulder. Blood seeped through his fingers. He knew the pressure alone wasn't going to help him. Now leaning against the wall, he slowly slid to the floor.
    Again, the evil voice spoke," We're going to die!" it spoke in his mind. Realizing he couldn't stop like this, he used his strength to get up and carry on. He mad his way to the front part of the building.
    In the door way stood a cop.
    "Its the end of the line!" The cop spoke as he reached for his gun.
    "I am sorry.." The skitzo man spoke. He raised the gun, aiming for the cops head.
    Click. Click.
    The man closed his eye's. He could feel the pain. The only voice he heard was the one's in his head. He felt relieved.
    Once he opened his eye's, he realized it had all been in his mind. The whole mess was just a game played by the voices. He's been chilling in the asylum, wearing some flip-flops and a hospital gown.
    "Morning meds will be distributed around 8:00 a.m." Someone over the P.A system spoke.
    Once it was quiet again, an hysterical laughter came from the schizophrenic man's room.


    The end..