Mental

Prologue

Kyrie

'Seven, eight, niinee.... Ten...'

I paused in the middle of the rep I was doing and sighed long and deep. This was my last set of curls. I only had five more to do before I was done. I was a sweaty mess and I couldn't wait to get home and take a nice, hot shower.

'Hoe why is you here?' The voice in my head snapped angrily. 'Why you put yourself through this bullshit five days a week? You could be in bed sleep right now! But no. You gotta try and be fit and shit.'

'I don't want to be fat for the rest of my life!' I thought back angrily. She always got something smart to say when I do shit to better myself.

I sighed again as I wondered if I was going crazy. I read somewhere that if you ask and answer your own questions that it's a sign of mental illness.

'Oh well,' I think, 'Everybody a little bit crazy.'

'You keep telling yourself that sweetie,' the voice said making me roll my eyes. I wish the times I imagined brutally murdering her would've gotten rid of her for good. Maybe then I'd get a little peace inside my own mind.

"Kyrie," I hear my friend Jermaine's loud deep voice yell shaking me from my thoughts. "Come on nigga you got five more. I'm ready to go!"

'Gym. Reps. Five more. Right.' I had forgotten when I was.

"Damn man. You always do that shit. Wish I could tune out the world like that. I'd probably be able to get shit done with those monkeys I call my brothers and father running around like they crazy."

'Not if you had to deal with a crazy bitch living inside your head 24/7,' I thought coldly before laughing.

"Why you stay complaining 'bout them?" I asked as I finished my curls. "You know you love living in that house with all them big bodyguards to watch over you."

"Bitch," he cut his eyes at me disgustedly. I just laughed at his crazy ass before putting the dumb bells down and walking toward the gym exit.

I love that bitch. He is my best friend, has been since my freshman year in highschool. He's around 5'7 and light skin with what you could classify as "good hair" he dyed brown and blond. His voice is deep, but not as deep as any of his five older brothers or his father. He's played basketball throughout his entire highschool career, so he is skinny but muscular. Seeing as he's one of, if not the, best player on the team, he had bitches throwing themselves at him every damn day left and right.

That would be amazing if he weren't gay.

Out and proud gay, too. He told me being in the closet was miserable for him, and he wouldn't go back in for no nigga. The fact he was himself, cute, and could fit in basically anywhere made him very well liked, as well as very well hated.

It seemed like girls threw themselves at him more when they found out he was gay. Saying the typical hoe type bull shit.

'I could turn you straight'

It used to get to him a lot, but he eventually got over to it with the support of his family that he claims to despise so much.

"You forgetting your phone!" Jermaine yells after me.

'Shit. Why I always do that?' I think as I pause to wait for him.