Just a lil candy 🍬 (READ DESK!!!) [Discontinue]

"1" Memories

Bennet's P.O.V

I woke up but I decided to let my eyes closed...

Now let me remember what happened yet....

I was born.

Okay I mean, what living being isn't.
Oh yes birds and fish, they're not getting born, they hatching...
Snakes too...

Ugh..
I got off topic again!

So where I was again?

Ah yes, I was born.

Then my parents died 2yrs later.
And I was allowed to see their corpses in the most brutal state ever...

I still have the picture of their organs laying around the living room with, what seemed to be, galons of blood and some bones.

How they died is still unknown.
People believe it was murder.
I think it was suicide.

I mean, they hated me pretty much and they owed a lot of money to not so nice people...

They diagnosed me with a mental trauma and put me under a lot of drugs when I was younger.
They wanted to "cure" me with them.

They putted me in a mental hospital for homeless people, they luckily stopped giving me drugs at the
age of 5 yrs after they realized that it just could make it worse.

I always was an introvert person.
More I wasn't.
I hated to talk and I'm unsocial.
That's all.

But in this mental hospital are words like: shy and introvert doesn't exist.

You just have to be quite like me and your automatically mentally ill.

But the doctors are more stupid then I can imagine, after they realized that I don't like the public, they locked me in a room with only 1 window and decided that that will help.

I dunno why they thought that this would help.

But it doesn't mattered.

Not back then.

Not now.

And not in the future.

They only looking for me,
when the sun comes up
and when the sun comes down.

Not earlier.

Not later.

But it didn't matter.

At least the nurse is nice.

She asked me everytime when she's coming in, if I want to have my meds or if I want to spend my day without.

She always brings me food and is really nice, she's the only one who don't calles me by my full name, which is really a relief for me.

I hate my name.

Some people in the hospital
where bullying me for it.

I gave myself a nickname to make them stop.

It made it worse.

Most of them called me fatty.

I mean. Good.
I'm not skinny, that's true..
But still.

Thinner Candys are skinny and rounder Candys are fat but who cares.

Some people believe I can't talk but I can! I just hate to talk!

All those questions they asked me...

The police man's , the psychologists, the doctors...

They're questions hurt.

They tell me to forget about the..
Well...
Let's call it...

"Bloody living room"

But at the same time they keep asking me stuff about it.

"How did you feel? "

"That must be shocking, was it? "

" How worse was it? "

GOD I HATED THESE QUESTIONS!

So I stopped answer.

I quited talking completely.

Or at least I try.

*knock* *knock*

"Bennet, are you awake? "

The nurse is here...

~533 words~