ೃ⁀➷ᴘꜱʏᴄʜᴏᴘᴀᴛʜ ¬ ᴇɴɢ ᴠᴇʀ

- NINE -

Since I was little I had not been like other children my age and that began to worry my parents. While in kindergarten everyone drew with many colors, I limited myself to the darkest ones and, when I had to draw my family, I did them without faces or landscape, only black silhouettes. At first the teachers thought it was because I just had a different way of doing things, but as I grew up I continued to do the same thing, ignoring the rules of the institutions I went through. And yes there were several, because I gave my parents the hard job of never obeying the rules of the schools and getting me expelled, causing them to have to look more than twice for a place to take me to study.

There came a time, before I was 10 or 12 years old, when they noticed that things were getting out of control. If someone bothered me, I would hit them without warning and without being able to stop until they were bleeding, or if a teacher asked me to do something and I didn't want to, I would yell at them and also give them a punch in the face. I didn't care about anything, one more visit to inspection was like taking a walk outside the classroom. For these reasons, and several others, they decided to take me to a doctor, who referred me to a psychologist and then, as life would have it, I was referred to a psychiatrist.

Because I was treated before I was a teenager and young adult, I was able to have a slightly different life than anyone with antisocial personality disorder. *Those in charge of my treatment did everything they could to help me change and separate right from wrong, I began to know people's feelings and rights and learned to respect that, but they knew that those changes weren't going to get rid of the psychopath in my blood.

My parents, and I, knew that I had improved very positively thanks to those experts, but they also knew that if I got to have a very close or intimate relationship with someone in the future, those behaviors could come back. That's why, when I met Felix, I hesitated a lot to decide if it was a good thing to get close and be someone important to him, because I didn't want those warnings to come true, because I couldn't bear to make him suffer with my genetic problems.

And who did I owe those genes in my DNA to? Well, someone I never met. My father's grandfather. Apparently, according to what my grandparents told us, it was a curse the family had carried for centuries, stating that every eldest son in each generation would carry those genes. Both my grandfather and my father had been the second and the last son, respectively, so it had fallen to me to be the first eldest son after several generations.

Back to the present, during those first years with Felix, I had thanked the man upstairs for having let me be well during that time and for having made him happy by my side, but, when it got to the point of being toxic, I started to be terrified of hurting him. I wanted a million times to make up an excuse or something so I could leave him and not hurt him, but I just couldn't. A lot of voices kept popping up in my head. There were a lot of voices in my head trying to manipulate me, which I obeyed more than once. That was also one of the reasons I preferred to lock myself in my office.

I couldn't help it. That part of me. It hurt.