Psycho(logy) *under construction*

1. Anti-Psychological Non-Parent

(edited)

Fried noodles.

They're practically all I really need in life. That and pajama pants. I sat on the kitchen island watching the elderly gay couple next door fight about the TV remote, through the kitchen window. I laughed as they decided to watch the 5:00 news with the hot anchor. Oh what I would do to jump that guys bones. I slurped up what was left of my takeout, disappointed they were gone. I threw the container in the trash can and jumped off the counter. My roommate Brit walked in and I turned to tell her about the anchor guy and the couple next door. I stopped in my tracks as soon as I saw her. I would have laughed if it hadn't been for the look on her face. She looked, well frankly, like shit. Her blonde hair - which was usually silky and straightened to perfection - was in a wild array of knots and frizz, her eyes drooping with dark bags adorning themselves under her baby blues.

"Charlotte Rosalina Austiago," She spoke lowly, eerily, as her fingers wrapped themselves around a silver object. She could really use that hot anchor dude, I thought. I could really use that hot anchor dude. I gingerly walked towards her, not wanting to add anymore fire to the burning building that was Britnay Vickson.

"What is this!" She snarled as she threw something harshly on the table. 

Fear shot through me, I stiffened, swallowed slowly and looked up at her. "Oh.. that?", I chuckled nervously, "Tha- that's a- clicker*?"

She scowled at me. "I know what it is! What I want to know is why the fuck was it on the back of my bed's headboard?" Brit ground her teeth as she shot daggers at me. 

"To see how a constant stimules affected your sleep pattern..." I whispered as I stared down at my hands. 

"What?"

"I just wanted to see how long your sleeping pattern would be affected by a constant stimules, clicking, before your brain became accustomed to it." I responed sheepishly. 

"Oh my God Charlotte! Speak fucking English!"

"Okay! Okay. I'm sorry. I wanted to see how long your sleep would be affected by the constant clicking."

"Why in the bloody hell would you want to do that!"

"Well, there was this experiment done right. Three men stayed awake for like 90 hours. They began having hallucinations and almost died. So I wanted to see what the affects were of, not sleep deprevation, but a slight disruption of a sleeping schedule." I explained proudly.

Let me explain, see it's my life-long dream to become a psychologist. I want to be able to break boundaries of the human mind, go beyond anyone's wildest dreams. I want to be able to go deep into the human psyche and show the world who we truly are as raw untamed beings.

Yeah, I know it's not something most kids shout out in classrooms when teachers ask them what they want to be when they grow up. However, if I truly followed all the 'norms' of society, then I wouldn't enjoy biting the heads off of gummy bears and I wouldn't be working as a phone sex operator. But, that life would be pretty boring, now wouldn't it? If it means throwing myself into the treacherous hands of my violent, roommate then so be it.