The Special Needs Donkey

Introduction

~ My body slammed into the lockers beside me.

I looked up and smiled at my attacker.

My body ached more than anything, but I stood up.

I smiled and thanked him.

I held my head high and hummed.

As I walked away from the crowd of laughter, a girl spoke.

"I can't believe you let him show you up like that," she cried out hooting.

To say he was embarrassed was an understatement. I didn't know, but he was right behind me.

"Oi! Special needs donkey!" He shouted.

I turned around and before I knew what was happening, I was punched in the face and knocked out.

Little did I know the name would stick. ~

"Xavier!"

I turned around to see my therapist frantically waving back at me. I smiled at her in return.

She jogged up to me, quite slowly, and nodded in greeting.

"How's life treating you?" The chirpy lady asked.

I smiled at her, despite the pain it brought to me. My bruised lips wasn't the only thing hurt you know. Let's just say they were very... thorough.

"Good," I answered back simply. "How's Jill?" I asked politely.

"Oh, she's fine. You know, she was speaking about Maudy the other day-" and that was pretty much when I zoned out.

Some of you may have already guessed it.

My therapist was my aunt, gaurdian, therapist and Ms Gossip Girl.

All rolled up into one strangely interesting woman.

And you may be wondering?

Why on Earth does this boy need a therapist?

Well dear nosey people...

You see when I was the mere age of 10, I was diagnosed as a sociopath.

I would lie to my content, not feel guilty and my smug face would pretty much be on show 24-fucking-7.

I know I'm always right, eventhough maybe sometimes I'm wrong. I mean legally.

Laws are more of guidelines anyways. Right?

Try telling that to the judge.

I'll tell the rest later, but I kinda gotta get back to the intro at hand.

Anyways, that was how I introduced my young aunt/guardian/therapist/gossiper.

She is a bit odd. Almost as odd as me.

I guess it runs in the Ryder family.

I'm glad my first name isn't Ryder though. Ryders are such fuckboys... I would've liked the name Gary. Did you know the name 'Gary' is becoming extinct? It's gonna be the next dodo.

Back to the main thing...

I think I'm gonna start off with telling you my childhood. Yeah, let's begin with that. I'll bullet point it for you.

•My parents are dead.

•We are actually European. Aunt Kendra moved to America a couple years before I went off the rail.

•To be specific, I'm British. And i know what your thinking.

Ooh, your accent surely gets the girls. Right?

No.

I'm a 5"10' lanky, misunderstood weirdo.

I still like Pokemon. I have messy brown hair and normal brown eyes. My eyes are quite weak, hence the glasses. I guess you could find my height intimidating, but I'm not very... What's the phase? Basically...

I just don't give a fuck.

And that's my problem too (apparently. I think I'm fucking perfect). Put that ontop of being a known sociopath and a compulsive liar and you have an evolved human being. Me!

I do have some tendencies of violence, but it isn't that bad. I think.

I have no friends. I'm a total outcast. And I like it like that.

And then she comes along...