SOCIOPATH by Ella G (knowledgeable books to read TXT) 📕

on throwing my psychopathic moments into my mind vault. I still had many more, but I felt sad and excited at the same time. Will my my mother want me back? Will the kids be horrified that I'll be coming back? Will the world hate me? I threw my negative thoughts away, and looked at my tiny window. The New York lights shone brightly, but not enough for my whole room to be lit. I saw a couple walking towards a fancy restaurant, and some girls with massive shopping bags in their delicate hands. All of a sudden, an unrealized pang hit my heart. It felt raw and hard, and I wondered if I was going to be sick. I was ready to purge the pills out, but suddenly the pain ended. I was wondering what it was. An illness? Disease? Heartburn? Suddenly, I felt another wave. Feeling. Loneliness. I was dumbfounded. I've never had feelings that strong, and I was suddenly frightened. Another feeling. I was panicking. What do I do? I calmed myself down, and told myself I was getting better. I found my peace, and exhaled and inhaled, and calmed my heart rate. In the early morning, a knock came, and I got up, ready to fake cheerfulness. This time, it was Brown, and I felt hate growing in my heart. Hate is the only emotion I have often. But that's all. He sat down in the plastic grey chair, and got out his notepad. "So, how are you, Ana?" He asked, looking at his notepad then at me. "I'm pretty fine, you?" I adjusted myself, and fixed my covers. He nodded, and wrote down a sentence, but I could see two words that said 'making progress'. I praised myself again, and I continued with his shitty questions. "How do you feel?" He looked at me, tapping his pen. "I feel like I have mixed emotions, such as confusion, excitement, anxiety and sometimes nervous for no reason." He nodded, and jotted down different notes, at least four or five sentences I estimated. After an hour and a half, he simply said, "you made great progress, Ana. See you on Thursday." He shut the door, and I heard the orderly lock the door. I adjusted myself again, and fixed my pillows. I sighed, and put my arms behind my head. One more week, Ana." I smiled to myself and paced around my room, hoping to practice being quiet just in case Miranda wanted the both of us to sneak out when I get out of here. Two days before I attempted to save her from herself, I was staying over at her house, and we'd go down the stairs and she'd always complain about my noisy footsteps. We'd laugh at the coffee shops at 2:00 a.m. or 3:00, but mostly at 12 or 1:00. Sometimes, we'd get out fake ID's and party at clubs and slap random dudes as if we were hungover. I chuckled to myself at my memories. Miranda and I got caught three times, but on the third time, her mom joined us at the club and coffee shops. Miranda's mom is 34, but she still has her charming looks. Just with the right amount of eyeliner and blush, she'll look twenty. That was Miranda's words. But I decided that I'd never use make up for it's paint facing of ladies. When it was 9:00 p.m., the sun went down, and I stared at the horizon. I made a mental note that'd I would paint a sunset or a rainy day someday, and there was an opportunity. Suddenly, I got another pang. But this time, it hit my guts. I had bloodlust. I wanted to see blood just once. One glimpse, and the sight of glazed eyes can bring such pleasure...Stop it! I slapped myself hard, and urged my mind to calm down for the sake of freedom. I stared at the horizon, and forced my mind to focus on pictures of artisans and people painting pots and vases silver. The bloodlust calmed, and I felt normal. "I felt normal," I breathed. I never thought I'd say those words in the same sentence. "I felt normal." I said again. "I feel normal!" I screamed into my room, laughing to myself. I looked at the clock, and I quickly climbed into bed. The orderlies always check the patients rooms at 9:35. I shoved my pillow under my head, and closed my eyes, hoping for sleep to embrace me. I heard a slight 'click', and a shuffle of feet, and then the door closing with the 'click'. I opened my eyes, and when it was 5:00 a.m., I felt like an insomniac. There were pale purple rainbows under my eyes, and my pale skin made me look like a zombie. I didn't mind, actually. I fell asleep after a few minutes, and then I heard a knock at my door.

 

.Four.

I woke up at 12:30, and I heard a knock. Fredrick. Today was my therapist day, and Melinda let Ms. Fredrick in. "Hi, Ana. I'll bring breakfast after your session, if you want. Is it alright, or do you want it right now?" She looked at me, expecting an answer, and I smiled fakely, but they didn't notice. "I'll have it after my session, thank you." Melinda smiled, and she walked away, her blonde curls bouncing in her ponytail, and she tucked a rebellious lock of hair behind her ear, and checked her watch while walking away. "Hello, Ana. Did you sleep at all last night? You have pale purple circles under your eyes." She studied my eyes, and I decided with the truth. Well, half of the truth. "I was looking out my window, and got carried away." Ms. Fredrick chuckled, and carried on with her questions. "How are you feeling?" I didn't spill all of my emotions and/or feelings, but just three. "I feel kind of tired, a little more than excited and sometimes a roll of anxiety here and there." She nodded, and wrote down sentences. "Do you feel a bit...," "Normal? i guess so, yeah. Bloodlust never came, anyways." She seemed relieved that I finished her sentence, because I mean, seriously. Who would want to make a fourteen year old sociopath/psychopath angry or offended? No one is my guess. After our session, Melinda immediately came into my room and gave me my breakfast. She had tears of joy in her eyes, and I wondered why. She wiped them off, and her black winged eyeliner smudged a bit due to her furious wiping of her eyes. Ms. Fredrick held her clipboard tight to her chest, and beamed at me. Melinda smiled at me again. "Eat your breakfast first, darlin' and we'll break the happy news for you. Just press the button on this remote when you're finished, and we'll be up here in a jiffy. Alright?" She handed me the tiny remote, and I smiled. "Wait, is there any bad news?" They both laughed harmoniously, and Ms. Fredrick's eyeliner started running this time. "No, but if medication counts, yes." Melinda chuckled, and kissed the top of my head. "Remember, honey. Press the button when you're finished." I had no idea what was happening, and I looked at my breakfast. Oatmeal with milk and two pills with a tiny bottle of water. Once again, I threw away my pills, and drank the milk and ate tiny portions of the oatmeal. I drained the water down the drain in case of suspicion, and set it down. I checked the clock. Only seven minutes passed, and I hesitated to press the button. After two minutes, I finally pressed it, and Melinda and Ms. Fredrick rushed in. "Do you want to tell her, or I should?" Melinda glanced at Ms. Fredrick. "Oh, I'd like to." Melinda nodded, barely holding in her excitement. "You'll be out of here in five days!" I felt excitement. I just smiled, and they hugged and laughed, and smiled and I just sat there smiling and laughing like a stereotypical lunatic. After a few minutes, they left and didn't notice how much of oatmeal was left. The orderly locked my door, and I looked outside again when another knock came. Miranda and her mother came in with smiles on their faces. "We heard the news!" Miranda's mother exclaimed. She threw down her purse, and they both embraced me tightly. "Five days, Ana!" Miranda squealed, then laughed. The sun set down, and Melinda asked them to leave for their time is up. As always. Melinda smiled at me again, and I noticed she had fixed her makeup. I felt lonely again, but five days. I let the number linger in my mind for a few hours until I drifted into sleep. I got another unexpected pang, this time in my gut again. Blood. I felt like a vampire, and without thinking I got up and started near the door. Stop! What the hell are you doing? Do you really want to ruin your chances of getting out? I slapped myself again, and even pinched my arm for effect. I had to control it or else I'd end up with a slaughtered cousin and aunt. I pushed my confused mind away from the thought. No. I would never do that ever. I decided, no I chose that I wouldn't; but it wouldn't stop. Right before I could change my mind or even think, I already grabbed something and slid it across my wrist. The sight of blood calmed me, but I stared in horror at my creation. It brought me tears, and then some joy. Tears because this place might keep me here again, but this time for self mutilation, and joy for blood. I saw it dripping down the drain in the sink, and the soap calling me to make me feel pain. I put soap on the cut, and felt the sizzle. I smiled, and cleaned it and when I woke up, I had a red mark.

.Five.

The red mark was a bit long, but not noticeable. Four more days, and I had Brown today. I still hate him for some reason, like a cat hates a dog, or the other way around. The orderlies didn't notice the cut, and they gave me my breakfast, again with the pills. I threw the pills into the drain, and the water down the drain. I little of the grilled cheese, and drank little of the orange juice. I didn't feel like eating; I always had a sour taste whenever Brown was about to come. Ever since last session, he acted weirdly, never meeting my eyes, and focusing on his notepad. He