She entered our life like a blinding light, piercing the darkness within. Her laughter—a soft whisper of wings—made us forget everything we knew. With every glance, we lost ourselves more, as if the chains binding us grew weaker under her spell. We couldn't pull away from this woman. She filled our thoughts, taking control of every voice, every whisper inside.

It began after that incident, the one that brought us to her. Another breakdown, voices raging through our mind, pushing us to the edge. That's when she appeared—a psychiatrist, offering help, a way to break free. Or so we thought. Each session with her turned into a battle; the voices inside us arguing over her influence.

"She’s toying with us," one voice hissed, distrustful. "She’s the one who’ll save us!" argued another, desperate to believe. "We’re nothing but her puppets," another sneered, pulling us back into doubt.

One evening, she drew close, her fingers brushing our cheek. Inside, a storm broke loose; the voices screaming, drowning each other out. "She’s lying!" one voice urged us to pull away. "But she’s our god," another whispered, torn between fear and awe.

Her gaze held us captive. She leaned in, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You're mine, aren't you?" she murmured.

We felt every voice waver. "Yes... we belong to you," we whispered, surrendering.

From that moment, her influence consumed us. We followed her every command, her whims. Our voices debated fiercely but grew weaker with each day. "She's tricking us! We’re nothing to her," one voice taunted, but it faded quickly. "She’s all we need," another voice clung to her image, unable to let go.

In her absence, the silence left a haunting void. She had become our world, a false god we worshiped blindly, even knowing the deception.

And so, we stayed—serving her, sacrificing every piece of ourselves, our broken voices silenced.