personality disorder (kellic)

chapter 1

My face is a picture of perfectly sculptured regret and sorrow as my mother screamed at me.

"I can't fucking do this anymore Kellin! I love you, but this is the last straw! If you don't get help I'm- I'm going to have to report you to the police." At this the bitch has the audacity to start crying. I imagine smashing her blubbering face against the window behind her until pieces of her skull fragment off and surround be like snow. I'm already on parole for beating some kid senseless at school though, so I manage a tearful nod, making my green eyes big.

"I'm sorry mom really. It was an experiment honestly. We are going over muscles and bones in bio and I got curious." I lie effortlessly. The truth is, my hands were kind of cold and what better way to warm them, then by burying them in your mom's annoying dog's belly?

"YOU DON'T GUT MY DOG FOR A SCIENCE EXPERIMENT!" mom screams, crying harder. I try not to roll my eyes. White people and their dogs.

"I'm setting up an appointment with a psychologist tomorrow. There's something seriously wrong with you kellin." With that, the bitch finally leaves my room and I can drop the act of actually giving a shit. I sigh and turn back to my laptop.

You get caught gutting the family pet ONCE and everyone flips shit.

"Kellin we need to go or you'll be late." My mom appears at my door, her stupid purse in hand and a stony expression on her face. I look up lazily from my bed. I've been laying around all day bored out of my mind. Nothing really interest me. Except maybe pain. That's an interesting concept.

"I didn't think you were serious about the whole therapy thing. I'm fine mom there's nothing wrong with me." I say, not bothering to get up from my comfortable position on my bed.

"I am very serious. You either get help or go to jail. Your choice." Mom says in a no-nonsense tone. I sit up to glare at her. I love the way she flinches when I do.

"Fine. Are you going to stand their while I get dressed mother?" I ask sarcastically. Throwing my skinny legs over the edge of my bed and preparing to stand up, wearing nothing except my boxers. Moms face heats up noticeably and she rolls her eyes.

"I'll be in the car. Hurry up". She then turns on her heal and storms out of the house. I continue to glare until she's out of sight. My hand twitches as I stand up fully. I hate it when people tell me what to do. I would strangle that bitch in her sleep if it didn't mean spending the rest of my life in prison. I take my time picking out my clothes. I decide on a plain back t shirt and black skinny jeans. I spend some time on my hair, making sure it looks perfect. I'm not going to pretend that I'm not attractive. I know I am and I know that people tend to trust attractive people more. I'll go to see this stupid therapist, convince him there's nothing wrong with me and be done with this bullshit in a week tops.