Down The Rabbit Hole

Disclaimer: Mentions of Suicide

My name is not important. What matters is my pen name known as Voltaire, which the name was inspired by the French-English author that was known for his logical and critical views to society during the enlightenment era. However, I, as an author, was only known infamously for my arrogance. For my narcissism is none but a superiority complex, a coping mechanism that wards off my past failures. Knowing that I am nothing but a useless waste of oxygen on the surface of the planet today, at least I have my smarts. I was also known for my infallible charisma, which is nothing but a facade to hide my true nature as somewhat malevolent and evil. For I see humans in society, but no humanity without their compassion. But I did not believe I was human for I believed I was a vampire because of my outlandish delusions from one psychotic episode to another. But I was entirely human because I thought to myself I might just be a weak vampire that can live like a normal human being. No aversion to sunlight, does not fear the cross, nor garlic and doesn't definitely go around counting seeds once thrown at me onto the ground. But I had a thirst for blood and my psychic abilities actually work, but did not know how to control it.

All I see is evil in the world, as everyone in society is grabbing on each other's throats like wild animals. Like a jungle, there has to be a social hierarchy in the food chain of human society in the environment of our world's standards today, in the 21st century's status quo.

I lived through a lot of extreme stressful events and pain, that caused me a lot of mental issues which developed some kind of psychological trauma into the psyche of my mind. I was known to be a good person, a jolly happy-go-lucky, goodie-two-shoes, that was known for being the top student during my freshman year of highschool. And also a quiet kid with his 'emo' phase. I was bullied by many of the school. Not only that, my father was quite abusive, I must say. He was a fiend and a threat to my mother. Having myself to be neglected throughout my childhood had scarred my mind to develop a form of sociopathic behaviour as soon I grew up to adolescence. Until I snapped and could no longer take the abuse from my bullies.

Which then, had me standing up and fighting back for the first time that led to a gruesome deadly fight, quite literally. I just blacked out and the next thing I know was that I was pleaded insanity at court, wherein I was sentenced to seven years in a mental asylum. Specifically in an isolation ward, full of white pads inside a singular tight cell, with nothing inside at all. Having myself strapped in a straitjacket and relied on only making up my own delusional world for myself just to cope with the loathing boresome of the entirety of seven years.

Up until today, wherein I recently have got out of the mental ward. Just so I can be trapped inside my own home under a house arrest, still seen as a threat and a menace to society and to myself by officials in the village staff here where I live. Where I live in the apparent world is not what is important, the rabbit hole I am diving to accidentally? It is the only place that will matter from now on.

So, you see… My father has prostate cancer, liver damage, high cholesterol and triglycerides and is too depressed and fragile to work. My mother has been working abroad as an Overseas Filipino Worker (OFW), and has worse conditions than what my father currently has and she is the only one who has the liabilities to work for the family, having her at the worst age to continue working. She is slowly dying of old age at this point and should have retired last year. But she didn't when she's supposed to and planned to.

Indeed, it was because my brother had gone to North Carolina in order to apply for a job as a nurse. The fact that my brother had finished two college courses, nursing and culinary arts. He didn't finish college in that country he is currently living in. In fact, he graduated here, in the Philippines. So he has to study for over two years, then finally take the exam. So, once he passes, he can take the job so my mother could finally go home in our native country, which is the Philippines by the way,. Sadly, his terrible English made him fail.

So, he has no other choice but to take a break, yet he couldn't. He has a baby daughter and his wife to take care of in that country. He is too busy and stressed out taking care of his baby daughter there and he could no longer support the family anymore.

And me, you ask? I am useless. I was trapped in that mental asylum for seven years without social contact with the outside world, wasted years without education, especially because I am too mentally unstable to go to work.

This is where writing comes to play. And it became my greatest pride because of how many words I can write within a week. Is it true that when a WebNovel author tells you an inside joke about me writing 110,000+ words within a week? That is absolutely true. I must be honest.

But all jokes aside. I was not good enough, wasn't I? That's when I descended to madness. I spiralled down into the worst insanity I've ever felt, but not as bad as the mental breakdowns I had from that cell alone if I were to be truthful with you.

That's when I've been given a reality check that no matter what I do, I will never be good enough. That is my downfall. That is why my previous novel had been discontinued and started to leave everything behind.

That's when I went to look at my old drafts and looked deeply into my books. I don't care what they say. I love my work. It is my pride and joy. And what I enjoy doing.

Then, I couldn't take it anymore. I've been through a lot, and too much, became too optimistic that ended in bad results. I've been doing the exact same thing over and over again, expecting crap to change. So, this time. I'm going to do something different.

Out of a catatonic state of delirium and dissociation. I picked up the knife and aimed it at my throat. I pulled it back gently, and then thrusted it in within a glimpse of a millisecond, then. That's where I felt my soul leaving my body and falling down into the abyss.

That abyss was the exact same rabbit hole my main character fell down ever since the first book I've written when I was twelve years old. And that's when I felt the urge to realisation. The revelation that I began to think to myself that I probably am going to reincarnate as the main character of my first novel since the first letter I wrote that one book in 2011.

And that book was "Laugh of Hysteria: White Ash". The wonderland that my alter ego created for me, where I fought all those eldritch abominable monsters beyond human comprehension. That I had to go through gruesome and traumatising experiences just to escape my personal inferno.

I know that one thing that I must do is to kill my alter ego just to go back to reality. But is there even a reality to begin with, if I am already dead?

I fell down the rabbit hole deeper and deeper until the point of no return. Wherein the light above me is nothing but the light of a star now. Until that very beam had faded away, where I was embraced by the darkness, taken into the empty space of oblivion. I accepted my death.

This is my hell. For all eternity, I am to reincarnate my soul back into my old fictional world I created since the draft of the first time I held a pen to write something creative. Which was the suffering I must go through, over and over again, expecting things to change.

Which takes me to the definition of insanity. That of insanity is to do the same act repeatedly, anticipating different results. This had been a manifestation of my reality, if I even had a reality in the first place. Belief is key, and to believe in something it is reality.

However, what is reality? Reality is an illusion we humans perceive, where in truth (reality) is none but madness. And the true reality is actually none but insanity.

And this is my descent to madness. Someone who was a psychopath, a chemical imbalance in the brain that causes me to do impulsive things that I couldn't control. Unable to learn from my mistakes. Risking my entire life for none but adrenaline and just for fun-sakes.

I tried to change, but it was too late until the day I died. Nothing had changed. It was absolute lunacy to think to myself that I will do something different just to do the same thing. And say these again, and again. It's driving me insane when I speak of madness.

It is a loophole of oblivion.

And then, I finally hit the grounding point of the rabbit hole.

Finally, I made it to the deepest depths of the bottomless pit of my own hell.