Abnormalies By S.N. MORRIS

Chapter 1 ~~The beginning

My name is Addy, I am eleven years old. I have noticed I am not like the other children my age. The hair colors of the fellow children are blonde, brown and red, but my hair is raven black. I tried once to bleach my hair to a brown, but when I woke it was back to this evil

black. My hair flows down my back in numerous curls. The other girl's hair in my age group is bone thin. I am not sure why this happened to me. I once asked my mother about this difference, and she left the room with tears in her blue eyes. My mother has the most beautiful blonde hair and my father with his brown. I was always curious why mine turned out to be black. I am also a little small for my age, most girls around me have developed lumps on their chest, but here I am flat as a board. I was not an only child, I have two other siblings that have the hair color of my parents. Oh how my jealousy fires up as I see my sisters with their long blonde hair and blue eyes. For me I have caramel eyes like my father, but the hair is another story. I guess you could say my childhood was pretty normal with teasing and other annoyances. Overall, I wish this hair color would change.

First day of tenth grade. Another year of teasing.. Great.... I have grown over the summer to a whopping 5'5. I guess I did catch up finally to the other kids, but my hair is still black. I walk in the front doors of Gizmoo Junior High School. It is a lot bigger than the earlier school I attended. Rosewood Elementary was an old school house with white walls and stained grey tiles. It reminded me of the asylum I went to when I was younger ( I had fits of tearing out my black hair and my parents sent me away.) That is all behind me now, but there is still a spot under my left temple that has no hair growing, but that is always the place I hide with a long side braid of my own handy work. I usually wear graphic tees, skinny jeans and different shades of converse (usually my chucks are worn in the toe) . I kinda stand out in a crowd of people who wear preppy clothes. I will not for the life of me go into detail on what I mean by "preppy clothes", the sight of them makes me gag. I am yet to find one person in this whole school that dresses like me or even understands my style of dress.

I usually get memories of the asylum I was sent to. The walls were a colorless white and floors were white tiles with blood stains. I don't even want to imagine how that blood got there, my stomach does a flop motion when I even look at it. I spent most of my life there. I didn't really get to enjoy my first year of highschool, with all the constant teasing of my hair and other things.. These thoughts of mine are odd.. Umm back to the asylum.. Where was I? Oh yes the blood on the tile... This place looked like a prison with rooms filled with padding for the more special cases. Most rooms had a door that was locked at night by these nurses with the odd upside down cloths on their heads. I can hear a banging noise echoing through the narrow hall. I guess it was someone banging their head or fists into the wall.. Maybe both. It smells of cleaning products and over cooked food. A nauseating combination that made my stomach make a noise of rejection. Room 201: here is where I spent most of my days. Well roughly 5 years of my life ( Seems like forever if you ask me).

The vision ends and I walk to my first class of the day, ART II. The one class on this sheet that does not make me want to dig my fingernails into my eyes. As a natural impulse I sit at an empty table that is in the back of the room. To my dismay, no one looks up from their chirping screens. Blonde and browns clutter the room, but I am used to this color combo. I unzip my supernatural backpack pulling out my purple pencil case, one sketchbook, and silently place them on the desk in front of me. The sketchbook is black with a ripped cover and nervous lines down the spine. It is filled with sketches from my days in the asylum. Most of the detailed drawings are of what I saw behind the walls. Of the nurse, some patients and that mad doctor that ran the place. I usually drew them with their personalities on the outside. The nurse was a beautiful tall brunette, but I drew her with her ugly personality on the outside. The patients were drawn as they appeared. The doctor was blonde with brown roots and a charming smile that made women go weak in the ankles. I drew him as the joker I saw in the comic books I read, with his bloody smile, pale skin, and crazy eyes. I turn to a fresh page and start to sketch out figures as I lay my head down and let my hand and mind have its fun.

I mostly spaced out the rest of the day, so it was all just a blurrrrrr... Might be from me sleeping in most of my classes, Yeah, I am an insomniac at night. My mind hardly winds down for sleep or to even concentrate on anything for that matter