Flyleaf

2

"Wheres my fucking pills!"

"I cant give them to you" He sobbed

"Not good enough" I hissed

While I grabbed another pencil and stabbed his other leg. Again he cried out in terror. He looked down and saw the blood on his legs and on the floor. I could see the color draining from his face and he was about to pass out. I slapped him across the face.

"Stay with me. Focus! The pills, tell me where they are this will all be over." His eyes got heavy and his neck couldn't support his fuzzy little head. He really didn’t handle blood very well.

"I cant give them to you.." he whimpered

"Why? So its morally okay for you to screw and lie to a 17 year old but you draw the line at giving out pills?"

"I don't have any, I just wanted to screw you!"

Somehow I should have seen this coming. Sigh.

Let me just take a moment here to add I am normally not a very violent person considering I always lost when it came to fights, but this was the last straw and I agree I should have most likely have handled the situation a little differently or not even have been in it at all. But there is only so much one person can take before she looses her mind and honestly, who here haven’t here had a few psychotic rages here and there.

I punched him dead centre in the face, I felt how his nose brake under my fist. I then wiped the blood of my hand, and sat in the chair behind his desk. There was nothing else to do and I sure as hell wasn't opening that door. Once the police saw what I did to Davis, I would be arrested and if they wanted me they damn well had to work for it.



So I enjoyed my last few minutes alone with my former psychiatrist and started reading through all his case files in his top drawer. Honestly I thought I was a little off the deep end, you should meet Jessica Cox. Her file said she has schizophrenia, depression and also anxiety disorder. Colourful. Then there was Michael Anders, really cute guy, has manic depression and selective mutism. Serah Bauford was bipolar some really out there phobias.

After reading through about 11 case files of demented people who came to see this creep, the police broke down the door and arrested me. I swear I will never forget the look on that officers face, when he saw Davis it was hillarious. My mother was hysterical when she saw I had cuffs on. Her abusive husband was right there next to her glaring at me with that hateful look, I have come to know over the years, as they dragged me off.



I don't remember much after that. I was loaded in a Police vehicle, they wanted to send me home to wait for my court date which was in two days but I begged them to let me sleep in a cell. With the excuse that maybe it would scare me straight out of my sinful ways.

The cops eat that crap up like donuts.

All I can remember from the court was this man. He was probably a psychiatrist, judging by the way he talked. He said I had a psychotic episode. Which is a mental illness apparently, usually triggered by stress, trauma or drugs.
Okay honestly fair enough, yes I have been eating Prozac and basically any other pills I could get my hands on like jelly beans. But mental illness was a little far fetched. I also saw my mother and father in the first row on the left. They spoke a few times, but like I said I don't remember much.



The next thing I can remember, is when I woke up in a police car. After about 2 hours drive we stopped at this gate, and the driver spoke with guards while flashing his badge. I had no idea where I was going or what was happening and I didn't like it. I like to have a little control or at least to be in the loop of recent events such as the decision they made about my future.



It didn't look like a jail, -not enough security- so I was confused more then ever. After a minute, they let us pass on through the old iron gates. It was around sunset and the entire building lay wrapped in shadows. The police officers helped me out of the car, holding my arms, Like they were scared I was going to try and make a run for it.



With an exasperated, sigh, I looked up to the heavens and let the cold wind caress my face. While enjoying the the fresh ar I noticed the odd name on the building. Rutland. They began to lead me, like one would a child unable to walk on thier own, hands gripping me to tight to be comfortable.

"Listen dipshits, I'm fairly certain I can walk on my own... Do you mind." I growled at them.



The police officers stiffened and was clearly startled, they glanced to one another as they silently communicated with each other. Ready for action, as they let go of my arms slowly. I walked through the little paved yard which looked like the outside of a haunted house.

We made it to the entrance of the building without any suicidal tendancies from the depressive feeling the building gave of. I rang the bell before one of the officers could. It rang loud enough for a church chime, we all nervously awaited the opening of the door.