Mad | ✔ | GB+SB

Chapter Four

Enjoy!

I chew my lip as I walk to the kitchen, thinking about these new boys.

Obviously, trying to talk to them all like that will not work, at least not yet. I need to talk to them and get to know them so I can make a good decision on what I do with them.

I shake the thoughts from my head. I don't need to be thinking about them. Instead, I need to be mentally preparing myself for my right tonight.

I often fight in a ring against others. My opponents typically come from different sectors of our mafia and people who have been away for a while. Father likes to remind everyone how strong we are. He says that if the innocent little girl can beat their fierce fighters, then their "real" fighters would destroy them. What they don't know is I am the best fighter, and looks can be deceiving.

I slip into the kitchen soundlessly and grab the one meal I am allowed while the chef watches me carefully to make sure that I do not get more food than I am allowed. I grab what I always grab on Tuesday's, a triple ice cream cone. Because of the supplement pill, I don't need to worry about eating healthy, so I never do. I have tried a few vegetables and fruits, but after trying a tomato, I vowed to never eat vegetables or fruits again.

Besides, I only like frozen items. For example, frozen yogurt, ice cream, slushies, popsicles, and other foods like that. The good stuff.

You know, I just realized that I am a bit of an obsessive person.

I only eat frozen desserts, I live for diamonds, I hate to clean with a passion, I obsessively fantasize about killing my parents.

Sometimes I worry about my mental health.

But, because I am worrying, that must mean that I am alright.

But, because I dismiss the theory through that logic, does that mean I am not sane?

Then I am worrying again which must mean I am fine.

And by saying I am fine, I must not be.

It is a vicious and slightly confusing cycle.

I try not to be waste my brain cells on it, but I often wonder whether or not I have a mental problem.

I lick my cookie dough ice cream and moan with pleasure. I love desserts and only getting one a day, if even that, means I get to enjoy them even more. So really, Mother and Father are doing me a favor by not letting me eat.

Eating my ice cream, I take my supplement pill. I hate the pill. It is humongous, which makes it super hard to swallow, and it burns on the way down and hurts my stomach. But I need it to survive and grow strong and healthy so I take it like a good girl.

Stuffing the last of the cone in my mouth, I make my way to my room where I get changed into a Mother-approved workout outfit. Quickly, I dress in white sweats, a pink tank top and white shoes. Mother insists that I only wear white and pink. I hate it. I used to love pink because Mother does, but now I am sick of pink and sick of Mother.