If I had told my parents about the voices in my head I expect they would have whisked me off to the doctor leading to a diagnosis of schizophrenia. I was myself rather troubled by them as they came many evenings while I lay in the darkness in my bed, but I was too young and ignorant to appreciate how seriously they might be taken.
They were a background chatter. A quiet but chaotic mumbling of many voices with no meaning ever discernible. Just mumble mumble... mutter, mumble...
Leakage... A interesting concept. Words leaking through from another reality, is what I think they were, really. And I don't get them any more now that I am aware, or think that I am aware, that the other reality is... well... is really real.
Because one time when I was about 11 years old, I found myself being led by the man in in the white garment from the chamber beneath what I thought of as "my tunnel", along a short dark horizontal tunnel and into a much larger chamber where many people were gathered. And that identical mumble mumble was exactly the noise that I heard as I approached, until on arriving within the chamber the conversations became clear, if still somewhat meaningless.
'So we will be executing the arrangements in seven twenty-one...'
'And that will be arriving from level six and outer aspect twelve...'
'Well we have sixteen new ones to consider but I think we'll only keep about four or five...'
They were adults mainly, dressed in white garments, but males and females and dotted here and there amongst quite a substantial throng there were also a few children like me, dressed in nightclothes like me, and looking at me, and at each other, as I looked at them.
I don't recall what happened next, unless you count me awakening in my bed again in the morning as what happened next.