The Unseen- Room 101 (Part 1)

“There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.”

  • Fredrich Nietzsche

The chapter contains Voltaire’s descent into madness.

“Remember what Quinn’s voice whispered aloud? Her tongue biting a hole inside me, after I opened up to let it out. If I’d stayed silent, I’d hear her voice. Why’d I do that ‘cause I’m not losing her.” Voltaire said as he slammed down his empty cup and said one more sentence without slurring: “Why did I kiss her?”

“Because you liked her,” Ben’s smell said. “Voltaire you need to eat.”

“I am.” Voltaire then filled up his cup. “I am not losing her.”

“Buddy you should stop,” the scent of Ben said. “Just stop succumbing to self-pity right now. You’re speaking to pillow men with sock heads. You’ve been rejected so surrender your saloon and get over it somewhere outside this room.”

“I am not losing her.” Voltaire then kicked over the pillow man. Ben’s sock head floated to the ground to be crushed under a storm of falling pillows.

“That will teach you,” Voltaire snarled at ‘Ben’ before he drank straight from his beer bottle. “I am not losing her.”

He had forgotten to shave his body. As a result, all his hair had grown back. His hair and sweat had been collecting dust that stuck to his invisible skin so he resembled a ghost with dirty feet. He’d also lost weight from his unhealthy diet and now he had a skinny body with protruding hip bones that stretched his skin thin.

“I am not losing her” Voltaire said.

Voltaire pulled the coat, that Quinn had given him, off his bed and filled it with sheets. He wanted something that smelled of her. He imagined Quinn greatly missing him. Wait! She had been the one who had hurt him! What right did she have to be so upset? He threw the Quinn, made of pillows, away and threw the bottle at Quinn’s model. Voltaire’s aim was poor as he was blind and his hands were sweating and shaking so much that the bottle missed the soft pillows. It smashed on the floor, spraying the coat and the pillows with shattered glass and the beer.

“I am not losing her” Voltaire snarled.

Next Part

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Disclaimer: This is an original story that is not based on any real people or events. It is a work of fiction that is purely to acknowledge and develop the character of Voltaire’s complex-emotions and motivation.


©Missy Wong

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