The things that run through my head

State registered psychopath.

'Ugh. How boring can one day be?'

'I've literally only been in this building for five minutes and i'm already on the verge of punching a teacher.... again.'

I walked down the halls of my school. This building was old and on the verge of falling into pieces. The teachers either cared or gave no fucks about any of the students, there was no in between. It had taken me a while to get to school today. I had woken up extremely later than I was used to because I had a state mandated "doctors" appointment. The new doc hadn't done much, except call me crazy and schedule me for another appointment next week so that we can 'discuss my apparent anger issues'.

I grumbled as I shuffled down the hall, pulling my heavy backpack up on my shoulder more. My small form seemed to sink amongst the taller ones. I wasn't the tallest person to grace these  halls but I wasn't that short. About 5'4 perhaps since I last checked.

All of the other kids knew enough by now to avoid me at all costs. It was a method invented as not to be injured. I was well known after I had beaten up Buck last year.

I sighed as I entered my last class for today. It was a study hall headed by a sleazy librarian who was more into sounding poetic just to get in the girls pants. 

I ended up doing what I do most days, sitting in the back corner watching as that awful man managed to get yet another one of the skanks at my school to 'follow' him into his office.

I let out a breath of relief as the bell to go home rang.

I then got into an even worse mood when I remembered that i was also legally obligated to mot use my car until I was cleared by the doc. 'looks like i'm taking the bus' I thought as i grabbed my bag and trudged towards the buses.

The ride home was a quiet one for me. I had put in my headphones and sat in the front by the driver, to avoid as many people at possible.

The bus driver would only drop me off two blocks from my home so I would have to walk.

As I was walking I pulled one of headphones out to hear the sounds of several sirens. The sounds were unmistakable police, fire department, and ambulance.  Those three in one setting only meant one thing, someone had died. 'how dreary' I thought as I continued to stroll onward. 

I had only about a block left until my house, but something just wasn't right...

I stopped to look around, when I noticed a man walking toward me. He had a plaid shirt and ripped jeans on. This man was of a larger build, with greasy looking hair and hooded eyes, he looked in essence like and angry drunk that hadn't slept for two days. His lips were pulled  into a thin pail pink line that lightly resembled a smirk. I stared back with a blank face, slightly annoyed that whoever this was had the balls to walk up to me and bug me.

As he got closer I was able to see the small bloody hunting knife in this mans hand. I was also able just to barely see the small blood stains against his red shirt. I straightened up my posture in response, he took this as his que to smirk wider. Right now it was obvious that this man thought he was hot shit.

'I'd beg to differ' the thought ran through my head in a millisecond.

Once the man was within a five foot radius he held the knife up to me.

"Now you pretty little thing, you're going to help me get far away from here or i'mma have to slice your pretty little throat. We wouldn't want that now would we?" He said as his voice rasped as he pronounced each syllable.

I let out an annoyed sigh escape my lips as i looked away from him and out in front of me. I know he could definitely see me rolling my eyes.

"Find someone else to burden, i'm not in the mood, and i'm not on enough medication to deal with you right now..." I trailed off at the end. The annoyance and disgust lased all of my words.

I could see out of the corner of my eye, that I had surprised this man. He most likely hadn't expected a hostage who just generally didn't give a fuck. I mean why would I? At this point I had little to no rights, I was just a broken piece of American Trash and I was now just along for the 'ride'. I mean I'll go along with the ride, that's fine, but that will  definitely not involve this, it just means I will go home and sit quietly in my dark house.

Suddenly this asshole grabs my arm and hold that small ass hunting knife up to my side. With a growl he says "i'm not kidding girlie, get your shit together and listen or I will kill you." His breath smelled rancid, and I was beyond pissed at this point.

"And just who in the jolly fuck do you think you are?" I barked out getting right up in his face, even though his blade was poking painfully into my rib cage (not enough to cut, but still enough to annoy).

"I'm the son of a bitch on the news! I'm the Daytom serial killer!" He growled out.

I lowered my eyes, looking at the ground, my long hair covered my face as he kept a tight hold on my arm. I had heard of him, at this point he was practically famous. 

"I guess this means you're going to cooperate now you little  bitch." He said in a much more relaxed tone.

I was on the verge of blacking out. I was going to have another one of my episodes, I could feel it. I just hoped that I would still be conscious enough to remember what I was about to do.

"and just what the fuck made you think that?" I  heard my voice croak out, but i'm sure I hadn't said that. I looked up at this man, this killer, and began to feel kind of sorry for him, especially for what I was going to do next.

His knife had quickly dug into my rib cage, but my free arm was faster. With my right hand, i dug my nails into the skin around his wind pipe, I curled my skinny fingers around his trachea, holding there, while applying lights pressure. The knife pulled out of my side and went to slice my wrist that was embedded in his throat. It just grazed the side of my wrist, as I let go quickly and jumped back. 

I briefly made eye contact with this man. His greasy salt and pepper hair was disheveled and his eyes were as wild as his rapid panicked breathing.

"his voice  suddenly rang out in its shaky, raspy, glory.

"W-who ar-re you?"

I could feel myself smile, on the inside I was grinning too. It was the type of smile that wasn't a nice smile. It was the type of smile, that all the skin on your face pulls away from your teeth and just shows how evil you intend to be for the next few minutes.

I hunched over slightly as I took an attack stance.

"well as of twelve thirty this afternoon, I'm an un-medicated state registered Psychopath."

and then I lurched forward. When I woke up several hours later I was cleaning my wounds, sitting in an empty bathroom with a blood stained shower. I don't think anyone will blame me.