|    El Cuento:   I’M NOT CRAZY   |


We all pretend to be someone, it doesn't matter if you want to be someone cool or someone mysterious and dark, we all wear masks without exception.

Well, James Miller also had his own mask, he seemed to be a normal boy, with nothing that we can highlight, in fact, we could say that he fits almost perfectly in that category, James did not stand out in anything, he had average grades and like many others, he was bullied by his school's football captain, Henry Williams. James is pretty much a regular boy from Ohio, if it wasn't for the simple fact that James saw weird things from time to time.

Well, saying rare would be a simple way of saying it, not to say macabre, horrific, and disturbing for anyone, however, James was not just any person, and from one moment to the next, seeing his companions as corpses or with different mutilations.

BUT, HE WASN'T CRAZY...or so James kept telling himself in his head.

He just had a medical condition, YES, just that, it was perfectly normal from his point of view, dealing with it, wasn't that bad.

HEY, MILLER! - Scream once when he heard the James’ voice, the voice that tormented him for almost three years.

Just ignore him, he told herself, high school will be over soon and you won't see him again, he repeated in his head over and over again, it was his mantra every time he had to see his smug smile, every time they buried his head in the toilet, and every time he got beat up, which was constant

How is my favorite punching bag? - Henry Williams said while squeezing James's shoulder too hard, until he was pushed into the nearest locker
There was that smug smile again, and the same situation every day was repeating itself, it seemed like he was bragging again, but if he was honest, he didn't pay attention to anything he said, he wasn't interested anyway

However, his "medical condition" resurfaced in this situation, his eyes that a moment ago saw Henry Williams acting in a terrifying manner, now he only saw a headless torso, the part of the neck that remained was dripping blood, his arms they were completely crooked, as if they had been smashed over and over again like ground beef.

ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME, MILLER? - Reality returned once more, the macabre sight disappeared and instead I saw Henry's enraged face.

Before he could even think of how to get this new problem off his chest, he was thrown into a locker.

Perfect, just perfect...

Hours later, he had been taken out by a guard and had returned home, where he had been greeted by his father... who had a bottle of cheap wine in his hand, and did not have the best expression in the world.

James knew he was going to have a hard time, his father, Terrance Miller, had become erratic and violent long time ago, he didn't even remember when he was a loving father... now he was just a drunk who despised him whenever he could.

Hours later, James was lying on his bed, he had some bruises on his face and his lip was split, nothing he wasn't used to, the last time had been a month ago, it had taken too long.

Hello honey, how was your day? - I hear a voice that I hadn't heard for a while and
was his mother, who had been dead for years.

Hello, mom - He answered curtly, he wants to be sure she was his mother, just part of his "medical condition".
Bad day? - Her "mother" asked again with her clear angelic tone that always characterized her.
...no - It's the last thing he answered before he took his pills, a slight headache later, his supposed mother was no longer where he was standing.

James just sighed and tried to sleep, even it was difficult because of the wounds that his father left him, they still hurt, meh, it was nothing that he had not treated before.

Those were the days of James Miller always, every time, every time, sometimes more, sometimes a little more relaxed, and it's always the same thing.

Visions of his dead and maimed companions.

Henry Williams beatings.

And the beatings of his father.

Visits from his dead mother.

You know, there is a point that the human mind can reach, and James, with a "medical condition," was closer to the edge.

And the hallucinations were so frequent that said hallucinations felt like everyday things.

Eyes appeared staring at him.

Voices that incited him to hurt, both others and himself.

His mother's voice seeming to care about him.

And the day came, James was at the entrance of the school.

He had to stop lying to himself, he wasn't right, not at all.

But James didn't want help either, he just wanted to finish everything quickly, but not before "fixing" his hallucinations.

The hammer and knife he had in his backpack would help him in his task, he had done it with his drunken father, and as a result now his father no longer had a frontal lobe, it was of no use to him anyway, possibly it was damaged by all the alcohol ingested all those years of alcoholism.

Entering his school, his hallucinations became much stronger, shadows, eyes, voices, they just looked at you, they just yelled at him

Do it...
Do it…

And James was going to abide by what the voices said.

Finding Henry Williams, he tried to do the same intimidation as always, but of course, that was not the best idea with a mental patient.

As a result, the corpse of Henry Williams was unrecognizable, decapitated and with arms that were in completely unnatural directions.

Ending one of the headaches he'd had for years, James just poured chemicals from the school lab all over the school, and with the end so close, James just pulled out a cigarette, he wasn't a frequent smoker, but now, who cares, he was a killer, and he couldn't be happier to be free of all his weights on him.

James dropped the cigarette as he finished, and the embers from the cigarette itself caused the chemicals to burst into flames, with James in the middle of it all.

The last thing James saw was burning corpses, which were actually his companions on fire, along with the shadows and voices being present one last time.
James just smiled sickly.

Maybe, he was a psycho.

Por: Luis Ángel Orozco Alvarado