Crazy~Sexy~Psycho

Chapter One

A/N:

Hey my lovely readers!

If you are here from my other books, just know that this one gets just as ...juicy 😉....it just takes a few more chapters than the other ones.

Don't get discouraged..hang in there.

You won't be disappointed 😙

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"Five therapists in two months...FIVE!"

My mother's glare bores into the side of my face as I slide my ass into the passenger side of her car, my eyes rolling into the back of my head.

Here we go again...

Yes, I chased away five therapists in two months. It's not my fault they can't handle my amazing charm and spitfire attitude. I'm just a seventeen year old girl trying to figure out who she really is.

Am I bipolar?

Am I schizophrenic?

Multiple personality disorder?

It's a very exciting time in my teenage life.

I close my door and wait, staring at the red brick building in front of me, but she sits there with laser beams shooting from her pupils. Apparently she wants some kind of explanation.

She's not getting one.

Not the real one, anyway.

"I knoowww! It's so weird, Mom. It's like...they don't get me. Ya know?" I turn my head, putting on my best confused face.

Oh God, her head's going to blow off.

"Why, Angelina? Why are you making this so difficult? We just want what's best for you, hunny," the anger changes to sympathy and I really prefer the anger.

I flip the visor down to reveal the small, rectangular mirror. I run my fingers through my hair, making a mental note that I need to dye it soon. It's starting to look like my natural dark brown instead of the beautiful, unnatural eggplant that I prefer.

I stare back I my own blue eyes as I wipe off the bit of black eye liner smudging in the creases.

I hear a frustrated sigh as my Mom realizes that I'm ignoring her so
I flip the visor back up and continue my stare at the stupid bricks.

I can't do this everyday. The same conversation over and over with the same results.

You try to commit suicide one time and everyone loses their shit.

Ok fine, they had the right to lose their shit but WHY does everyone insisted that I must be diagnosed with some form of mental illness just because I had a moment?

"Maybe they are leaving because they are frustrated at the fact they can't find anything Wrong. With. Me." I enunciate each word with my fingers pointing at my chest.

The reason they are leaving couldn't possibly be caused by me driving them insane, never giving them straight answers, or purposely acting out different disorders that I Googled to completely throw them off.

I would never.

Ok fine, that's exactly what I do. In my defense, I didnt plan on continuing the facade, however, I had way too much fun after I Googled Tourettes Syndrome.

But they have to find something wrong with me. And I must be treated for whatever that is before I'm able to resume my "normal" life. I can't go back to school "mentally unstable" and if I don't go to therapy, they can put me "away".