The Voice Of Terror
It was the third night in a row that Taylor Hanson could not get to sleep. He kept hearing voices in his head whispering to him. After tossing and turning for 3 1/2 hours, the teen got out of his bed, and began listening to those voices. He soon found himself inside the cold, pale tiled bathroom in the hotel. Taylor started the bath water and checked the temperature, making sure it was the perfect degree. He then began to undress and lay his neatly folded boxers on top of the counter. Then, with his left foot, he stepped into the scalding water while fighting back the tears.
"You're dirty, Taylor! Get yourself clean! Look at how dirty you are!"
The voice in his head was repeating the same phrase millions of times, each time drawing him closer to insanity. Taylor grabbed at the ivory soap bar sitting on the edge of the tub and fiercely began scrubbing at his thin body attempting to remove the unseen dirt. The young male thought back to earlier that evening when the beautiful young woman stood in front of him, asking for a hug. For some reason, he couldn't embrace her. It wasn't the fact she wasn't attractive enough for him. Actually, he thought she was the most gorgeous human walking. Her smile made him blush. Her features left him in complete awe. Yet, her touch made him cringe. When looking out and around him that evening, he noticed something that had never bothered him before. All the fans were watching his every move. The would scream even when he coughed or sneezed. It was all making him crazy. Each time he shook a hand or hugged a body he felt dirty. After the long, 30 minute bath, he got out of the water making sure he used his left foot to step on the floor first. He released the water and then replaced the bar of soap in the exact position and spot he had found it. He then turned the nozzle back to its original place, in the center. Taylor removed a towel from the rack and dried his body, still scrubbing at places he thought weren't clean enough. After getting his boxer shorts back on, he used the towel to open the door and exited the bathroom.
"Taylor! Why are you taking a bath at 3:30 in the morning?!" his younger brother, Zachary yelled. Zac ran to his sibling, thinking he was sick or hurt and placed a loving arm around Taylor's broad shoulders. Disgusted by his touch, Taylor pulled away and wiped at his arms.
"What's wrong, Tay? Are you alright? Let's go back to bed... you'll feel better in the morning, I'm sure."
Taylor went over to his bed in the hotel and fluffed he pillow, then lifted the neatly made covers to slip underneath them. Once laying down in his bed, he though about how his brother had touched him. "You're dirty, Taylor! Make yourself clean!" And within seconds, he was out of bed, folding his covers back, and inside the bathroom turning on the water to the correct temperature. This was only the beginning to the end of Taylor Hanson's life.
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