Hello everyone. This story has been written for the Heartbeat Contest, arranged by Mangatoon Novel Corner Community (MTN). The prompts I have chosen for the story are as follows :

1) Idea no. 20, 3 by Hemang

2) Idea no. 12 by Hazel

3) Idea no. 32, 14 by Regulus

Credits to the respective individuals for their efforts. Please do check out the book "Heartbeat Contest", I promise you won't be disappointed!

Also credits for the cover of the book goes to my dearest @Crystae. Please support her!

Disclaimer

This story has been written on mental health awareness and the struggles of a person suffering through mental problems. This story is not in any way an instrument of hate towards the mental health community and those going through the same.

Personally, I have gone through many extreme emotions but not as extreme and serious as I have planned to portray in the story. I unfortunately have no prior experience of such extreme levels of psychosis and delusions, and most of the story is based on information I have gathered through my study for the past two weeks.

Psychosis is a mental illness which is scary and a living horror for both the patient and their loved ones. Many could not survive the war against it and have claimed their own lives. My heart goes out to everyone going through such problems, and this book is not made in any way to glorify it.

I will also attach some information regarding psychosis and how it's different from a psychopath. You are requested not to confuse between the two, as it makes us inhumane towards those actually suffering through it.

The terms “psychotic” and “psychopath” are used a lot in popular culture, sometimes interchangeably. But they refer to two different mental health problems, both of them serious.

Thus, psychosis is not the same as psychopath.

Someone with psychosis has a short-term (acute) condition that, if treated, can often lead to a full recovery. A psychopath is someone with an antisocial personality disorder, which means they: lack empathy – the capacity to understand how someone else feels and are manipulative. Unlike psychopaths, people with psychosis tend to hurt themselves rather than others.

A psychotic “break” is an episode of psychosis in which an individual loses touch with reality. It’s characterized by disruptions in thoughts and perception, making it difficult to distinguish what’s real and what isn’t, according to the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI).

Psychosis is not a diagnosable condition in itself, but it may be a symptom of a serious mental health condition, such as schizophrenia, severe bipolar disorder or severe depression. An episode of psychosis may also occur on its own, without an underlying diagnosis.

Credits: nhs.uk

webmd.com

psychologytoday.com

You can always do your own research and find out more about these topics. Normalise it and do not spread hate!

This chapter will be updated later for any additional notes or warnings. All the chapters are to he read while keeping in mind that they may be edited in the near future.

Thank you for giving this story a try. Have a wonderful day ahead! :)

The wind howled through the trees, sending shivers down my spine. I ran blindly through the dark forest, my heart pounding in my ears. Behind me, I could hear the deep, guttural growls of the monstrous creatures chasing me.

My bare feet pounded against the uneven ground as I desperately tried to get away. Sweat poured down my face, stinging my eyes. Suddenly, I slammed into something hard, falling backwards onto the forest floor.

Dazed, I looked up to see one of the beasts towering over me. Its jaws were wide open, drool dripping from its jagged teeth. It let out a bone-chilling howl that made my blood run cold.

I tried to scramble backwards, but I was trapped. The monster lowered its head, preparing to scoop me up in its massive jaws.

Just then, my eyes snapped open. I was back in my bedroom, safely in my bed. It had all been just a nightmare. My heart was still racing, and I could feel the phantom pain in my feet from where I had hit the hard object in the dream.

Letting out a shaky breath, I tried to calm my nerves. The monsters may have been a figment of my imagination, but the terror had felt devastatingly real. I laid back against my pillow, silently hoping I wouldn't have to face those beasts again anytime soon.

It was 7 in the morning. I got up from my bed and lazily walked towards the bathroom. Brushing and grooming myself early in the morning was a hectic task which I’d avoid at any cost since I started living by myself, all alone, away from people and sunshine. However, today was a special day. I finally have a job.

But did I truly need a job?

When I ask that to myself, I’m even more convinced that I was living a great life without such vexatious chores. Linda and her family would pay for all my stuff, and I do not have friends. A jobless, unbothered life seemed pretty much made for me.

But I know. I know that the longer I continue to live like this, it will be I who will suffer and become a target of mockery. I absolutely cannot let those detestable soul-eating flies have their way. Therefore, I must wake up and face the real world. I must save everybody.

I washed up and browsed through my closet. I hate all my outfits, they are so quirky and outlandish. I should probably buy new ones.

But still, I picked one of them, hesitatingly. After finishing breakfast, I will leave for the company. I was accepted for the post of radio jockey based on the sole reason that they liked my voice. It’s a low-paying job with high requirements, so I didn’t have many people to compete with in the first place.

Oh, this bright light.

As I stepped out of my house, the warmth of the sun's rays caressed my skin, a sensation I had long forgotten. Squinting against the bright light, I felt the warmth soak into my bones.

The world seemed so vibrant, colours I had only dimly recalled are now bursting with vivid life. The gentle breeze ruffled my hair, a refreshing change from the stale air I had grown accustomed to.

Taking a deep breath, I relished the crisp, clean scent of the outdoors – no longer muted by the confines of my dimly lit enclosure. Every sight, sound, and smell felt new, as if I was experiencing the world for the first time in forever. My eyes stung with tears of both joy and sensory overload.

But I didn't care. After so long trapped in darkness, the light was a welcome, invigorating assault on my senses. I never wanted to go back.

When I reached the company, it was around 10 a.m. People were bustling in front of the entrance. I pushed through them and somehow managed to get inside.

The lady on the counter asked me to wait in a small room while they arranged things. There were not many people apart from me in that room. But they still bothered me.

They were whispering amongst themselves about me and giving me cold stares and dirty looks.

“Stop talking about me! Who do you think you are anyway?”

They stopped gossiping and looked at me surprised.

“But we are... not saying anything about you.”

How insolent.

As I was about to accuse them of lying, the lady from the counter entered the room and asked for me. I got up, tightening my lips and suppressing the urge to call them out. I promised myself today that I would be strong and good. Yes, that’s what I did.

As I stepped into the other room where I would soon be broadcasting my first live show as a radio jockey, a whirlwind of nerves and excitement churned inside me. The walls were lined with soundproof padding, and the air hummed with the low buzz of equipment. There were rows of buttons and switches on the console through which I would communicate with the audience.

Taking a deep breath, I settled into the chair in front of the microphone, and the excitement sent a shiver down my spine. This was it—the moment I had been preparing for, the result of countless hours of practice and anticipation.

With trembling fingers, I adjusted the headphones. The static noise filled my ears. My heart raced as I glanced at the script laid out before me, the words blurring together in my anxious mind.

But as soon as the red light above the microphone blinked signalling that we were live on air, drawing upon every ounce of courage I had, I leaned towards the microphone and spoke, my voice steady and clear despite the butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

"Good evening, listeners, and welcome to the debut of Beetle's newest show," I began, my words flowing effortlessly. With each passing moment, my confidence grew, and I was delighted to be finally fulfilling my dream of sharing music and stories with an audience.

“This is your host, Abby, live from the studio. I hope every one of you is having a wonderful day. If not, I’m sure it will be once you get to hear the wonderful things I have to share with you guys. I have to say, the voices in my head have been particularly chatty today. They just won't stop telling me the most fascinating things.”

As the minutes ticked by, I lost myself in the magic of the moment, the world outside the studio fading away as I connected with listeners far and near. With each song I played and each word I spoke, I felt a new sense of purpose in me.

And when I hit the final notes of my debut show, I knew with certainty that this was just the beginning of an incredible journey—one filled with laughter, tears, and the timeless power of music to unite us all.