The Good, the Bad, and the Crazy. //+//A Complicated Love Story//+//

Chapter 6: Mary.

I made my way into the grocery store silently. I was supposed to be at Dr. Williams office right now but I didn’t want to. He would just sit there and ask me questions I had already answered a thousand times and then tell me I was special and deserved to be on this earth as much as anyone else, which I already knew…sort of.

I grabbed a grocery cart and made my way down the first short aisle, scanning the shelves to see if there was anything there we needed.

I had made it to the second aisle before I noticed the group of kids watching me. I turned swiftly on my heels to stare straight back at them.

“What?” I asked after a moment of holding their gaze.

There were two boys, both tall and strong, and three girls, all skinny, pretty, and bubbly.

“Who us?” One of the boys asked trying to suppress a laugh.

“You’re the only ones staring at me like I’ve just done something unbelievable. So yeah, you.” I said trying my best to ignore the passing eyes that drifted our way as we spoke.

“It’s just we thought once school was out that you’d be gone, out of our hair. We thought then end of high school meant the end of living with a crazy girl down the street.” The shortest girl scoffed folding her arms.

“Down the street? I live in the smallest neighborhood downtown. I don’t even think you all live downtown. Do I even know you?”

“No but we know you. You’re crazy. You’re crazy and pathetic. Your mother left you, your father abused you, you have no friends and no one loves you. We all hate you.” The tallest girl said.

Hate me? Hate me? How could they hate me? What had I ever done to them nothing? I had done nothing. Nothing!

I couldn’t help it I crashed to the floor tears streaming down my face “I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy.” I whispered, then I was beyond whispering “I’m not crazy!” I screamed one last time and then began to throw things at them. Anything I could get my hands on. Boxes on the shelves, things in my cart, my cart itself eventually. Until there was nothing left to throw because the manager had dragged me off into the back room as the group of teenagers stood their laughing at me. Laughing at me while I was down.

“Hey, kid!” The manager said “You get it under control or I’m going to have to call the cops. And all that stuff you threw. What if it’s broken, huh? What happens then? Then you owe me money.” He spat in my face but I didn’t really care if I owed him money, I didn’t really care if he called the police. I didn’t really care what happened to me now. He probably thought I was crazy too.

“I’m not crazy.” I whispered to him as I made myself into a ball at his feet on the ground.

“Good god, kid, what wrong with you?” He asked shaking his head.

“Nothing!” I sat up straight, tears rolling down my cheeks again “Nothing is wrong with me! I’m fine! Just fine! I’m not crazy! FINE! I’m…I’m not…cra-…I’m…fine.” I finally managed to finish my sentence, I was out of breath and too sad and too carless to move. I slumped back down onto the floor.