Psychos

3. Valerie

I would kill for a cigarette right now. I close my eyes as the new patient makes eyes at Jezebel.

I imagine the perfect day. Me in a cherry red bikini, my dyed crimson hair mussed up from the sea breeze. Can you guess what my favorite color is?

I'll be sunkissed, maybe with a martini in my hand. I won't be alone, of course. Maybe Jacob from detention, or Luke. That was the name of the boy who mowed the lawn last summer, right? I only remember his abs. Damn.

Or maybe the cute blonde girl I met at Julia's party, who, after a couple drinks, confessed that she had never slept with anyone.

I fixed that, of course.

But that fantasy will never happen. At least not anytime soon. I'm not normal. I talk to myself, I cut my arms countless times, my anxiety is way out of hand, my adoptive mom is a slut, and I'm probably no better...

No one wants me.

I blink. Enough with the self pity, Val. I realize that everyone's staring at me. I must've been talking again.

Robert looks expectantly at me. "Would you like to introduce yourself?"

What should I say? I can't come off as a wimp who can't keep her shit together.

I grin. "Hello, misfits. I'm Valerina Celine Mitchell, the second. You can call me Valerie. I was popular and envied and NORMAL and my biggest worry was how much ice the baristas at Starbucks put in my frappucinos."

Wayy to much. Like, a third of my grandes are inedible because of it.

My voice gets higher, louder.

"But then, I started going crazy. My therapist says the disease was in me the whole time, just biding its time and waiting to ruin my whole fucking life."

I dig my nails into my fists. Drama queen.

"Which is what it did. No one called. No one invited me anywhere. It was like I became a nobody. Do you know what that feels like?! I started TALKING TO MYSELF. Sometimes I hear voices, too. My life was destroyed. I started skipping class. It got worse. And now I'm here."

I sucked in a breath.

Skank. Crybaby. Dumbass. Congratulations, sweetheart. You just got a ticket to Hell. A grade A dumbass is what you are. You should be punished. You don't deserve their pity, or anything else.

"Shut up, shut up!" I snarl. Everyone looks slightly startled.

Robert blinks, unfazed. He's probably used to this.

"Who's next? Megan?"

A girl with a nervous tick in her foot looks up. She looks like a deer in the headlights, especially considering she has huge brown eyes. Two long braids tied with weird material hang down her front.

"Er, I'm Megan Spielman. I was on the volleyball team b-before I was diagnosed with ASPD. Anti social personality disorder. Y-you might call me a psychopath."

Damn. That's disturbing. But she isn't a threat. This girl probably jumps at shadows.

"Um... And I have a severe Phobia of bugs and reptiles."

I snort. "I guess you wouldn't like Fluffy then."

Megan frowns.

"He's my pet snake. Very cute. I feed him live mice," I say factually.

Megan's freckled skin grows even paler.

A/N: Like, comment, and follow of you want more chapters released!
 Also, if you were in the support group, what would you say about yourself?   
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