Psychotic and Reckless→ Sodapop Curtis

ONE

"C'MON, TAKE YOUR pills." Dr. Shetland demanded, shoving the pill bottle in my face.

I scrunched my face up in disgust. "No! There's nothing wrong with me, I don't need to take any pills."

He sighed, calming himself down before he started talking to me again. "You have Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder, Lexie. You NEED to take these pills, or you'll never get out of here." He was talking to me like I was dumb and I couldn't understand anything.

I grabbed the pill bottle from him and swallowed the two big, red pills. They reminded me of blood, and I didn't like it. I like things that are blue. Speaking of not liking things.. "Dr. Shetland?"

"Hmm?" He glanced up from his notes that go into my progress folder. Whatever he was writing was probably nothing good about me. I haven't made much progress.

"I hate the color of the walls in my room. They're boring. I like blue and blue only."

"How many times do we have to tell you? We can't change the color of the walls, Lexie. I'm sorry. Now, you may go up to your room." He instructed, pointing towards the door.

I sighed, and started feeling upset. I don't like the color of those walls. Red. Red reminded me of blood. Blood reminded me of that night.

I started walking towards the door, but turned around. "Mr. Shetland, why am I even in here? I'm not crazy."

"We don't use the word 'crazy' here, you know that. You're just different from other people, Lexie, and that's a good thing. You should embrace it."

I knitted my eyebrows in confusion. "Embrace that I now live in a mental institution? All I have is a personality disorder, that doesn't make me 'different.' That just means I think about things more."

"Go up to your room." His voice started raising, and I was scared of what he was going to do next, so I scurried upstairs to my room.

I was surprised that the stairs were not closed by a gate. Usually, it's closed by a gate so suicidal kids don't throw themselves off of it. I shook the thought away and entered into my room. When I glanced at the red walls again, I cringed.

"I hate red." I mumbled and sat on top of my bed.

My room was very boring. There was hardly anything in here. Just red walls, a bed, and my clothes. The only thing in here that I love is my bracelet. It was my mom's before....

The thought of my mom and dad started making my breath hitch. Reading always calms me down. I snatched a random book I saw on my bedside table, and opened it. I scanned the pages and furrowed my eyebrows.

It was a page about my disorder.

[btw, this is a little thing to get you all to understand what Lexie has.]

Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder is characterized by a preoccupation with orderliness, perfectionism, and mental and interpersonal control, at the expense of flexibility, openness, and efficiency.

Individuals with Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder may have such difficulty deciding which tasks take priority or what is the best way of doing a particular task.

Usually, they're preoccupied with details, rules, lists, order, organization, or schedules to the extent that the major point of the activity is lost. They show perfectionism that interferes with task completion.

Individuals with this disorder usually express affection in a highly controlled or unusual fashion. They may be very uncomfortable in the presence of others who are very emotional. Their everyday relationships have a formal and serious quality, and they may be stiff in situations where others may smile and be happy.

They hold themselves back until they are sure whatever they say will be perfect. They may be preoccupied with logic and intellect.

They are prone to become upset or angry in situations in which they are not able to control. "That's why I'm upset because I can't change the color of the walls." I spoke to myself aloud.

Although, the anger is typically not expressed directly. For example, a person may be angry when the service in a restaurant is poor, but instead of complaining to the management, people with personality disorders would most likely be thinking about how much to leave as a tip.

I shut the book and sat it back on the dresser once I heard footsteps. Dr. Shetland entered, and once he saw the book, he walked over and grabbed it. "I hope you weren't reading this." He gave me a weird look.

I hate lying, do I have to lie about this?

"I looked at the cover, but I didn't read it." I spoke, my voice shaky.

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Well, alright. I'll see you in an hour for lunch."

He walked out of the door and I sprinted to my notebook. I opened it, passing through all of the lists and schedules that I made. I went to a new blank page and started making a list of all the times I lied. I just lied to Dr. Shetland, that isn't good.

(aww she's so cute and innocent)

I only wrote down two things I lied about. It was a massive lie, and that's why I don't like telling lies. After that one, everything went downhill.

I had a sister. My mom didn't know about it.

My dad was with this girl, and he cheated on my mom. I saw them, I knew what happened. So, I told my mom.

//

We were at the dinner table and the only sound you could make out was the clinking of silverware. I was itching to tell Mom what Dad did. I hate keeping secrets. He made me keep it a secret.

"Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"I saw Dad cheating on you with another girl. He made me keep it a secret."

She dropped her fork and my dad had an angry look on his face. It scared me. "Please, don't hurt me." I frowned.

"What the hell are you talking about?" My dad asked innocently, but with rage in his voice.

"You're lying to Mom."

"No I'm not!" He screamed in my face, making me flinch. I wanted to cry, but I didn't know how. I'm scared to cry. Does it feel like dying?

My mom pushed him back into his seat with as much force as she could. "Get out of her face!" She yelled. "You know what she has, why would you do that?"

My dad stood up from his chair and went upstairs, leaving me and my mom.

Little did I know, the conversation we had was the last one.

//

I SIGHED AND my chest felt like an elephant was on it. The nurse came in with my food. "Here you go, Ms. Madison."

"I have a question." I spoke, causing her to turn around. "Yes, what is it?"

"How do you cry?"

//

a big thanks to psychcentral.com for the info on Lexie's disorder!

ahhhh! I hope you liked the first chapter! if you're still confused, everything, including her past, will be cleared up soon.

and don't worry, Soda and the gang will be coming soon.