Tattooed Map

WriterActress: I wrote this story after reading a very long book about serial killers and watching a few horror movies. I got real annoyed that women always were seen as the victims.

And I finished reading Thomas Harris's Hannibal and Silence of the Lambs. Thirteen pages is a lot for a short story so I decided to split it up on here so it's a bit more readable for you guys.

Enjoy the story.

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Tattooed Map

The coppery smelled I noticed first because it made me grit my teeth and my mouth water before my stomach clenches-

No, no, no, that's not how I shouldn't start this story because if I do that you'll think I'm fucking nuts. By fucking annoying therapist standards, I'm crazy. My therapist would tell you, "He's bipolar, not crazy." 

Or is the term Manic Depressive? I don't know anymore. 

With this story, I got to start out at the beginning. I'm writing this story mostly because my psychologist- back in Philadelphia- that writing shit out is good for you. Well, I count this as one of those times to write something done, but I'm going to hide this. Don't need to carry a confession with me.

This story starts where it all began in the psych ward. Technically, outside the psych ward when Ree finally got out.

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You'd think that a psych ward would have the same rules as a parol officer; don't stay friends with other inmates once you get out.

Luckily for Ree, that wasn't the case. 

The rain painted the world in shades of grey as she stood there by the glass doors that locked everyone in and kept the insanity out, or the "causes" as the nurses and psychologists liked to say. The place looks dingy compared to the rest of the city that stood taller over the red bricked building that took up space and shared a history as long and old as the famous Philadelphia State Penitentiary, but no one figured out that there was something screwed up about the place. Even sitting outside in a car with a cigarette hanging from my lips, I smelled the medical sweetness that made my stomach clench and tighten. 

Her eyes find me and widened. 

I feel a bit insulted at the surprise. What did she think I was going to do? Ditch her? I keep my promises. I'm a lot of things; a liar, a thief, a dropout, a cheater, but I always keep my promises. 

Even ones that I know I shouldn't keep. Like this one with Ree. 

She took long strides and her box of spoons made the clank, clank, clank sound before I got out and opened the door to the black buick for her. I spat the cigarette and stepped on it before getting in the car. 

"I'm surprised you're here, Tyler. I thought you might be too busy sleeping with women, or you were drinking away some depression." Ree said to me as she drummed her fingers on the box. 

Sighing, I wished she wouldn't remember every little detail from those awkward group therapy session with Nurse Racket. "What the hell are you wearing?" I asked. 

Ree's shoulder twitched and twisted her fingers into the white lace of her dress. She looked down, making her long wavy hair hide her face for a moment. 

"It was not my idea," she said, looking at me with those freaky blue eyes. I pulled out of the parking lot and soon went into the clotted veins of Philadelphia. She fiddled with the dress, trying the stretch the fabric before flattening it. "I don't know why mom wanted me in this outfit.