I, psycho.

Chapter Eight

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                                       Yours heartily,
                                                  Me😉

Seeing his back from across the hallway gave me the weirdest sense of deja vu.

  The same adrenaline coursed through my veins, pumping my blood at a level so high, I could feel the heat burning through my veins.

My heartbeat was unsteady, going from too fast to too slow, my fingers had, at this point, turned into claws and we're digging into my palms painfully.

I welcomed the pain if nothing else. It grounded me, kept me standing right at the doorway of my homeroom where I was instaed of across the hallway and glued to the source of my obsession.

              It hurt. Damn, it hurt!

My body and the tiny part of my brain that remained sane were clashing rigorously, tearing my being into pieces and giving me a massive headache that rivaled anything I'd faced before.

            Still, I welcomed the pain.

Pain I knew, pain I was willing to accommodate. But never again, never again would I give myself to this feeling.

Never again would I be nothing.

  Staggering, I managed to turn away and move in the opposite direction. It killed me, each step I took away from him made me dizzy with pain but I did it.

               I walked on, and on.

I almost broke the door of my car when I clambered into it, coughing and wheezing like an asthmatic patient, my body shook with anguish.

  A deranged laugh fought it's way through when blood started pouring from my mouth.

  Coughing out your guts because of a guy, I thought with a self-mocking smirk, ridiculousness in its finest.

  The coughing did not subside, neither did the blood. My body, the stupid thing that it was, had begun to emit heat so intense, my windows had become fogged.

  Between wheezing like a crack addict, coughing out blood and heating up like an engine that had run miles, my person began to fail.

  I could feel my fae tearing at me, that side that was so totally me, it was weird that we weren't a single entity was trying to give me strength where I lacked it.

  T'was no use.

I was gonna die.

In a car.

Over a fucking guy.

I sighed internally, it did not get worse than this.

  And then, because I had the worst luck a being could ever have, because life and luck had a mean grudge against people who didn't die even after being buried alive, it did, get worse that is.

  The door to my car was ripped off it's hinges, revealing him. The one guy whom I never, ever wanted to be close enough to to see his face which I was was at the moment.

  My last thoughts, admist the screams of students and my failing mind was that he had fucking gray eyes, stormy gray eyes.

        Classic, how bloody classic.

______________________________________

'Know what's worse than waking up by five on a Saturday morning, waking up outside your body by five on a Saturday morning.

While my brain played catch-up, I surveyed my environment, and what a fine one it was.

  My body was atop a king sized bed that was not a bed. I mean it had a golden headboard for chicken's sake, pure gold with silver edges, the pillows if my suspicions were correct, were filled with goose feathers and the duvet was made from silk so exquisite, the name silk didn't do justice to it.

The room itself was the size of three apartments and toned black and white. The rug was some fancy Persian shit and the ceiling had a suspiciously expensive feeling to it that ceilings were definitely not supposed to have.

  Damn girl, I thought to myself, that stuff about not coveting your neighbors goods ain't gonna cut here.

When the door, the ridiculously large, fine, polished oak door was pushed open, my grandmother, Elan, walked in with my psychiatrist.

Remember that stuff I said about waking up outside your body. Yes, that stuff.

  I wasn't dead, I think, but my consciousness was outside my body which still lay on the bed that was not a bed.

Elan's eyes were cold as they watched my pale body, there was no love lost between us, that was certain.

  "...Seemed alright during our last session..." My psychiatrist was saying, looking genuinely disturbed.

Elan tsked as she cut her off, "Adolorata is never alright, she's no where sane enough to be termed alright" she muttered.

  I fully agreed with her, my days of saneness were long gone and blurry in memory. Even as a child, I did not remember ever being fully sane.

  "But she was fine days ago, disturbed, but fine," said Doc, "it's strange that she suddenly began exhibiting such," she swallowed loudly, "disturbing symptoms"

Teeth grinding in anger, my grandmother said, "I'd wager that man who brought her here is the one"

  Doc was lost for a while before it clicked, her expression going from horrified to intensely horrified, "as in, the one, the guy..."

  "Of all nutties in the world, my own blood had to be the nuttiest of all" she said, swearing crudely.

  The reprimand was just on the top of Doc's tongue but she swallowed it and swallowed again for good measure.

"And where is the said boy?" My grandmother asked with a frustrated sigh.

  "In the sitting room..."

And there went my being...

Like a bee is drawn to honey, so was I drawn away to his destination.

  It was like a switch had been flipped in my brain, my actions were no longer mine, my thoughts, no longer my thoughts. Every pore in my shadowy body called out for him with the strength of an ice giant.

My ears were ringing and my eyes had a blurry feeling to them, as if I'd lost my sight partially.

  Off I went.

Without reason, cause or thought and my body still on the bed, my fog like consciousness went searching for my lastest obsession...

To be continued...