Get Out Of Your Head Novels & Stories

Perhaps if I was used to parents that looked at me with kind eyes, I wouldn’t feel so out of place because of a small gesture. Maybe if my life had just been marginally better than it is now. So irritating. Weak. I hate this. There’s a firm grip on my arm, I turn to face Miyamura. “Are you alright Sorahiko?”. Again. He’s the one dragging me out of my mind again. Shape up Sorahiko. I mentally push these feelings and all these thoughts into the deepest parts of my mind. Out of sight, out of mind. It might not be healthy, but it gets the job done, I don’t have the time nor am I free enough to do something as simple as process my emotions.

The wind could blow right through me and I wouldn't even shiver. "I’m leaving," Viola said, standing up. She didn't offer a hand to help me up. "But before I go, you need to understand something. Your brain is a creature of habit. It’s going to try to crawl back into that 'Reset' hole because it’s comfortable there. It’s where you don't have to take responsibility for being alive."

I announce before leaving the room leaving everyone in shock. I sigh audibly while trudging towards my room, this day is getting crazier by the minute I can't wait for tomorrow's note sarcastic term there'.

It soothes my mind but also ruins me for some reason. I don’t even know if I am allowed to have people over. Or keep company. I let out a sigh as I turn my body around to face the ceiling. My head sinks into my pillow and my hands are spread wide and flat to both sides, forming the letter T with my body. I need to get out of this house and clear my head otherwise I would lose my mind. Calling Leonardo doesn’t seem much like a bad idea right about now. I need the escape from boredom.

they'll devour me. *Alexa, get up and go in.. she needs you!* No! Get out of my head, whoever you're get out.. I screamed mentally. *I can't get out of your head, we're one!* I frown. *Go in, she needs you!* I feel myself wanting to pass out but an unknown force engulfed me from nowhere...I suddenly feel strong. I didn't wanna get up, but I did... I didn't wanna go in but I started walking in... It's like a great force is controlling me.

, you are definitely going crazy. OK, why are you calling me stupid? brain tell me, do you have any idea to get out of this, so that I can't see him again, I can't work with him, it's killing me again and making me more numb than now, which can't be afford now in my life, it will surely leads to death of mine, which made my mind silent after this lecture.

Even if I walk away from this spot, I'll never know if I'm heading for the right place. "Follow your heart. Keep walking." The voice becomes louder, but this time it's not coming from a specific direction; it's coming from my head. I clutch the sides of my head, fall to my knees and scream at the top of my lungs. I don't need voices in my head. I don't need any of this. The whole situation is horrible enough as it is. I don't need nightmares and losing the last bit of sanity. "Keep walking. Get the hell out of here. Follow your heart. Keep walking."

“Just don't think, do everything but thinking.” I threw my hands in the air in frustration, “I said — I'm trying — to — stop. He's — getting into — my — head… No! He's — getting — into my — airway — I — can't breathe, I — see — him in — the back of — my mind — all the — time. And, and I'm — picturing him — doing a lot — of — crazy — things to me. I know I'm crossing the line — but — I — can't stop it. What should — I do?”

All I do is nod. "Right, stand on the mat. I'm going to lock my arms around you, and you need to break free." My eyes roll, standing on the mat. I wait and feel his arms wrap around my body. His breath washes over my neck, and I moan. "Elara, focus. You're meant to be breaking out of my hold." "How?" I don't know how to. "Use your head." He finishes talking, and I swing my head back, hearing him groan. "I meant brain. Use your brain and consider ways to escape. Shit." He groans and releases me.

Now, not drinking made me fake. My hands were shaking. I felt sick. They kept yelling. I turned to leave. Chuck yanked me back and shoved me onto the couch. My stomach slammed into the sharp edge of the table. The pain hit hard—blinding and instant. My head spun. My stomach throbbed. I couldn't move. Chuck barked, "Get up! Stop faking! Say sorry!" He grabbed me again, dragging me upright. Then I saw it—the blood on the floor.