Psychosis.

One

***HEADS UP***

The only reason this story is considered a "fanfiction" is because it has Harry Styles as a love interest.

This isn't the typical journey of love kind of story.

This story has an insane, action filled plot that will leave you shocked that he was even mentioned in it.

Enjoy.

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"Such an ugly child, she is. In every possible way. Her poor skin is bruised from her constant self harm, and her bright blue hair is way to distracting. Fix her, get rid of her, I don't care. Just know that something has to be done or else they're shutting us down. It makes us look unprofessional when we've got a girl as horrible as that running in and out of our building."

I let out a bewildered breath as Miss. Jules plays the voice-recorded message from her own cell phone for all of the girls crowded around each other in the main hall.

I sit confused, wondering how a human being could be so cruel as to talk about another that way.

I pull my sleeves down as reflex, before any one of the other girls could put together the owner of our home building's harsh words and take notice to my scared arms.

"Avalon, sweetheart. It'll get better for you, I promise. I have a surprise for you in a few minutes so don't listen to her. You're-" Miss. Jules calming voice is quickly cut off.

"Such a freak," A girl my age finishes and looks to me, a disgusted expression on her face as she eyes me up and down.

I take this period in time to look around. The harsh faces of some, and even the soft, calming faces of others are now turning a scaly green as I look in between all of them. Large, horrid looking tails are slamming onto the furniture, breaking them with each collision. I flinch at the sound of growling and material crushing between the beasts' large teeth. Each of these creatures are now coming closer to me, snapping their large jaws as they circle around me. I'm no crocodile hunter, so this new imagery my mind has brung towards me is extremely unfamiliar.

But why does it seem so real, like it's happened before?

My younger sister, Caravelle, is the only one to stay her regular form. She gives me a pleading look as another scaled enemy chomps at her arm. I gasp, and rub my worn out eyes. The familiar image of the girls looking back at me returns, and I let out a breath.

Caravelle looks to me, hurt in her eyes as she takes note of my emotions and actions.

I curse at my imagination for creating such a horrible view of these females.

"Avalon," I look up to Miss. Jules quickly, my breathing seems to be increasing as I look towards some snickering girls behind me.

I am a horrible person, aren't I? A creation made for one thing and one thing only: destruction. Don't get me wrong, I haven't hurt anyone in any way. There just seems to be that sense of hatred that appears in any room I enter, and it's come to haunt me day by day.

"I'm sorry," I state, placing my face into my hands and run back up to my room, shedding the tears as I go. I trip and fall as I hesitantly make my way towards my dresser, letting a wave of pain caress my young body as I land on my ridged elbows. I rub my sored knees and arms as I stand back up and search frantically for a very familiar sharp item.

I abruptly stop as I realize what I'm doing. I can't search for that blade now. I'm six months clean.

Yes, Avalon. Six months.