cover by: rivila_cher
(Y/n) (L/n): Insane
(Dissection and split personality)
Luke Coyer: Schizophrenia and anxiety
(Hears voices)
Deamed Insane at the age of 3, thrown into the nuthouse at the age of 4. On your first day you noticed a boy around...
*Beep. Beep. Beep. Bee-* I threw my alarm across the room.
"(Y/N)! GET UP! DON'T WANT TO BE LATE TO HANGING OUT WITH THE GANG" Luke screamed from across the hall.
"No. Sleep is important. We would be on time if we slept in a half hour more..." I grumbled back.
"Yes, on time for school. We meet up with the group everyday (Y/n). We have to."
"UUUGGHH" I screamed. I hated it when he was right. I rolled out of bed and fell on the floor. "I felllllllll~" I cried out. Luke opened my door to see my on the ground.
"..."
"..." Silence staring, a habit we always had. Luke walked to my dresser and picked out an outfit. He threw it at me and started walking out.
"You've got to be kidding me Luke" I snapped. He stopped and turned around.
"Don't like it? I love it. You should tOtally wear it." He said in a valley girl voice.
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I threw it back faster than my parents throwing me in the nuthouse.
"Something better." I said as he caught the clothes and picked something else. He conjured up:
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"It'll do" I sighed.
"Yeah yeah" he walked out and closed the door. I got dressed but ditched the bracket, sunglasses, and socks and the shoes. I grabbed some converse instead and ran to eat. 'He has no style' I thought as I sat down at the table.
A bowl of cereal was waiting for me with juice of the side. Luke walked in from the living holding his bowl of cereal. He was wearing a plaid red shirt with a t-shirt under it saying 'nosey little fucker aren't you?' In small writing. He also wore some torn jeans and converse as well.
"Nice shirt" I muttered as I scooped the last remains of the cereal. '(Y/n): 135, Breakfast: 65' I thought putting the bowl away.
