Diagnosed: Psychopath

Chap 3

After filling out pounds of paper work, giving more personal information than I was really willing, and saying an oath to something I really didn't want to do. I was officially under "special" house arrest and to say I was looking forward to it would be a very, very big overstatement. I'd rather go through all of school again; I'd rather have open heart surgery without anesthesia; I'd rather be called "Mr. Georgeson" all my life then go through house arrest.

The last one might be a slight overstatement...

I still don't want to do this, but I'll go through with it. I'll be locked in my house for a month, then I'll be locked in a mental facility for who knows how long. My life just keeps getting better and better.

<time lapse>

You know how they say once you hit rock bottom there is no place but up from there? Well I've hit rock bottom and it seems like I'm just going to lay here for a little- no a long time. No, not a long time, but the rest of my life. Nice to know I'm going to be locked up till I'm dead for something I didn't do. I'll be known in my small town as the man who went psycho out of nowhere. What a great name to make for myself! I'm sure my father would be so proud to see his son now.

I was left in a holding cell to think, while they... actually I don't know why I'm here. I though I was going home for house arrest now. I was sat next to a beefy guy, tattoos litter his arm with no real pattern. It looks like a two year old decided to draw on his arm, given a green marker and a list of words to write that his mom would never let him say. Words I wouldn't even say!

I think he felt my stare because soon I saw his body shift and I looked up from his arm, past his orange mustache and beard that snakes around his mouth, past his crooked nose, to meet cold brown eyes. He looks like he was expecting me to say something; actually he looks like he was hoping I would say something, anything to give him a reason to break my nose. I probably look dumbfound.

"Hi" I state a stronger bravado to my voice than I felt. He grunts back, "what do your tattoos mean?"

"Nothing"

"Are you sure?" I question him, curiosity getting the better than me, "don't they usually have some deep meaning"

"They mean I will fuck you up."

"Rude bastard" I mumble, which was a dumb move since the guy sat not even a foot away.

The bench we sat on shook like an earthquake that broke the rector scale. I felt a shadow cast over me and feet come into my lovely view of the concrete ground that my brains will probably be splattered on. I felt a hand close around my shirt near my chest, the fabric digs into the back of my neck and I begin to defy gravity with the help of the beef head.

"Ya' got some balls sayin' that kid" He breathes into my face. It reminds me of just hours ago when angry officer Pallel was breathing down my face; same terrible smelling, too hot breath. I feel my spine dig into the concrete wall and continue to just picture my blood slowly creeping along the floor after this guy was done with me.

"Let go ass-hat" I tell him through gritted teeth, if I'm going to die here anyways, might as well have some fun with it. My eyes rise to meet the guys' eyes.

"What did you call me?" He asked, the same amount of fierceness coming out of his mouth to match mine.

His fist was brought back, ready to clobber my face into oblivion, when we heard the door to outside the cell open and a grunt come.

"Axton" I hear a condescending voice call out. Although it didn't catch his attention. "Axton, put the kid down. He doesn't know what he's doing."

The voice continued to reason as I continue our mini stare off, daring him to hit me. Don't ask why I'm asking for death, because I don't really know. My only hope of running a normal life is on the verge of losing hers. I can just picture her now, soft pink hair limp around her pale complexion. Her lifeless blue eyes hidden behind gentle pink eyelids, her lips were probably cracked and dry by now from lack of water. She's most likely lay on a hospital bed, hooked up to dozens of machine. Maybe her mouth was held open as they put her on a ventilator, her gentle face held a neutral expression as she was lost in her own little dream world.

I was brought back from my thoughts as Axton is ripped away from me by two guards and dragged to another cell. In replace of his cries and curses of anger, are black heels clicking against the cold concrete, followed by long tan legs and a curvy body. Her face holds a grim, unamused expression as she looked at me from my feet to my head in slow sweep. Words tumbled from my lips before I could help it.

"Like what you see?" Probably not the best thing to say to someone who has already decided to throw your life away. The words resonated through my head, bouncing off my skull, as I remember who said those words to me and the worst moment of my life.

"Like what you see" She asks, tilting her head so her pink hair fell into her face. She blows a little bit of air out of her lips, puffing the pieces out of her face, just to fall right back. She glares at her hair before she lets out a giggle and tucks it behind her ear.

The laugh never made it to her eyes.

A shiver falls down my sore spin as her grim expression deepens to a grimace. She opens her mouth but stops, trying to find the right words. She tries again then changes her mind. Finally she sighs and takes a seat on the bench a couple feet away.

"They say psychopaths have too much arrogance to them" Dr. Santez tells me. "So far you've proven that true. The fact you willingly took on Axton and that comment you just made, makes it really hard to find anything saying my original observation is wrong."

I keep my eyes on the floor, not wanting to give her anymore evidence that I'm a psychopath. I don't know how they work! I'm just a really arrogant kid, who saw a really traumatizing event happen and no one understands I don't want to talk about it. In fact that is all they want to talk about! Silence is my best option.

"Sorry kid," she says patting in between my knee and thigh, "you're stuck here for a little. They are searching your house then clearing your house of anything deadly. If you need to cut anything, like steak, you have to ask your parole officer to do it."

I nod my head tiredly, not in the mood to deal with the house arrest situation right now. She gives my leg one final pat and sighs, before heaving her body to it full height. She wears black dress pants with red seams and a matching jacket. Her hair fell to just below her shoulders in a straight black curtain and her eyes were a gentle green.

I dropped my head in my hands as her heels clicked away. I heard them stop and my head lifted to meet hers.

"Pallel maybe convinced that you are this heartless murder, but something gives me this feeling you aren't. Don't lose hope yet, I'll be searching for evidence." With that she steps out of the door and left me to think.

----

here is chapter three!

Jennifer Connelly is Doctor Santez! There's a picture either to the side or at the top or something for those who don't know who that is!

anyways...

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Am