Lucy was never a simple girl. For one, she was never sure on what she wanted. Second, she didn't talk to anyone, and when she did, it was always something that drove people away. But she didn't mind. But what really made her different, was the fact that she was born and raised in an insane asylum.
Her mom was in there because she was bi-polar, severely bi-polar and short tempered. Sometimes her temper got in the way. Luckily, Lucy didn't inherent it, she was in there for a different reason. She didn't have a diagnosis, she just seemed... insane. She lived and breathed insane. It was in everything she did. It was also in the way she looked, eyes black as night, with no sclera, (The white part of the eye) long, pale blonde hair that was always hanging in her face and in knots, pale, pasty skin.
Unlike all of the other inmates, she didn't live in a cozy room, with a king sized bed. She lived in a cage like room, with gray walls and a small twin sized bed. This was because she quickly tore up the king sized bed and ripped the wallpaper off the walls, claiming the bright colors hurt her eyes. It was then that they realized she was at least partially insane, considering the room was painted a calming brown. Gray, as she claimed, was the only color besides black that didn't hurt her eyes.
Another thing that made her insane, was her fascination with blood. Yes, she did cut her skin with a broken pencil sharpener, but she only did it to watch her blood flow down her wrist. She would cut along her veins, oddly enough, she didn't die of blood loss. She would cut along every visible vein, and when she ran out she would look up more veins she could cut along.
Most were scared of her. They didn't like the eerie way she would look at them from the corner of the room from under her lashes. They didn't like how her scars were put on full display. They didn't like how the caretakers wouldn't change her out of her bloodstained dress, considering she screamed everytime they tried. They didn't like the way she made the headmaster angry just to see the vein pop out on his neck. But most of all, they didn't like how young she was.
At age nine, she could scare the toughest of men with just one look. And so, when a man came to the asylum claiming he wanted to see this young girl for himself, he was the first to die.
He had a mixture of anger and fear in his eyes, this caused him to tense. His tense body brought along a whole lot of veins popping out all along his body. His eyes followed her movements as she continued to smile sweetly at him and inch towards her desk. Her desk held all of her bloodstained sharpeners, but of course, he didn't know that. As she reached her desk and clasped her hands around her sharpest razor, she looked at his veins in unabashed excitement. Although, with his focus on the young girl, he could not have seen the small box in which he tripped and knocked his head causing him to immediately black out.
When he awoke, the man was tied to a table with a gag on and the girl standing over him. She once again had a sweet smile which contrasted greatly with her blank stare. She began to cut along veins on his wrists with her broken sharpener, all the while listening to his pain filled screams.
When she finished, Lucy cut along the veins on his forehead. Then she cut along his legs, then his stomach, then his hips, then his chest. When his screaming of bloody murder subsided, she pulled her bottle of rubbing alcohol out and doused him with it. His screams brought a cynical smile onto her face. She gazed at his neck in longing. As he was about to black out from pain, she slowly, ever so slowly dug her sharpener into his neck and watched the life drain from his eyes. Leaving his mangled body, she slipped out of the window and ran through the night.
Women, keep your bulky husbands close, for if you don't, Lucy will surely come for him.
