Lost Minds

2

I've always hated fake things. Barbies, smiles, hope, sincerity, anything I saw to be fabricated, ignited a different type of anger within me.

It made me want to get away from the source, quickly, and put distrust between me and the person who had shown me such a thing.

It's someone exposing their true colors.

That's what it feels like right now. This new kid appears to be concerned for me, his eyebrows are furrowed, he's on his knees and he's asking me if I'm okay. But the iron grip he has on my leg says otherwise, so does the freezing glint of his gaze.

It reminds me of my parents and all those doctors. Those false smiles I used to believe in, when all they wanted to do was change me.

I press my back further into the cold metal lockers behind me, ignoring the bite of chill, while he watches me carefully.

"I'm fine. Get off of me." I say, pushing off his hand and getting up.

"I saw you curled up in middle of the hall and-"

"Don't worry about me." I grab my bag and hustle towards my class, as I've been trying to do for the pass 30 minutes, like the amazing student that I am.

"Wait, are you sure you don't need help?" He follows, capturing my wrist as I shrug on my bag. I groan, turning to face him as I fling off his hand.

"What the fuck don't you get, pretty boy? Leave me alone." I suck my teeth and spin on my heel, not waiting to hear his response.

There's something really off with him and I'm not sure if it's just because of the way he looks at me. A shiver trails down my back.

I can't say I don't like people who are a bit off or that I wouldn't have a good time fucking with his head. He's bold, or maybe he hasn't heard about me yet.

I don't know but I always love a new person to amuse me. I might get to give him some payback for the bruises forming on my knee in this moment.

Megan will be happy. I've, maybe, found my next target.

^^^

The day comes and goes, passing by as slow as a snail moves but like lightening when it's over, it's over. I sit in the kitchen, waiting for my hot pocket to finish.

The frigid black tile floor, freezes at my feet as I swarm over to the microwave and snatch the piping hot meal, out of it, while hopping on either foot, turning to run back over to the carpeted living room. 

We have the AC on too high.  The kitchen ground is literal ice.

I drop my food onto the paper plate I had prepared before on the living room table and turn the heat up, despite temperature outside being 72 degrees F. Cold is cold.

I throw myself back on the couch and switch on the TV.

"-do you think you've managed to skyrocket your company in the last 20 years with businesses pretty much, throwing their stocks at you?" The interviewer asks. I move to change the channel, spotting the business being interviewed as Legacy, stopping. My parents work there.

"They know we are a great investment to receive, so of course businesses give us as many stocks as we request. It's because of our faithful reputation and reliable deals." The man answers. His wife beside him nods.

They're lying. The man keeps using hand gestures when not necessary and looking to his left although the interviewer sits to the right of him. His wife is a lot better at deceiving the audience.

If it were just the man alone, he would look like an idiot, flailing his arms, but with his wife nods and has composure so he looks like he's doing fine.