Ch.1~ The Diagnosis

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"You daughter has post traumatic stress disorder or more commonly known as PTSD. She also has schizotypal personality disorder. Or SPD. They are both severe cases and she needs to be under constant watch, she might kill herself." The doctor said to my parents.

I rolled my eyes. "I don't need to be watched. I'm not a fucking kid. I can take care of my fucking self."

"Certainly, acting like a slut right?!" My stepmother roared.

"Calm the fuck down Mama bear," I snapped.

"Run off Sang. We'll talk to the doctor about your case." My father said, eying me wearily.

Damn he gives me the creeps.

I walked outside the hospital and lit up a cigarette, taking drag of it.

"A little girl like you shouldn't be in dark places alone," said a voice.

I rolled my eyes again.

"I live in dark places. I'm not a little girl who's afraid of the dark. In fact, the darkness is my only friend," I said coolly, taking another drag of my cigarette.

"Well that was a very wrong thing to say Sang."

I jumped and screamed as the arm wrapped around my waist, and a hand covered my mouth.

I bit down on the fingers hard, and the hand pulled away and the arm loosened.

I kicked Blayde in the nuts and ran into the hospital, racing down corridors.

"Oh my god, oh my god," I panted, collapsing in a dark corner of a hallway.

Then I blacked out.

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