Crazy Psychopath? I Don't Think So

I am not crazy, nor am I a psychopath. Why does everybody keep saying that? I’m not! I swear I’m not! 

Just because I have a fascination with watching my dolls slowly burn and imagining their screams, it doesn’t mean I have a few screws loose in both my mind and my morality.

I suppose people started calling me crazy a few years back, when I lit that one guy’s pants on fire. Everybody was chanting, “Liar, liar, pants on fire,” so annoyingly to me, especially the guy, even though I was telling the truth. I don’t remember what I was allegedly lying about, but that doesn’t matter. Anyway, I wanted to show them who the real “liar, liar, pants on fire” was, so I stole the guy’s pants and let the flames from a candle do the rest. 

It was quite funny, well, until I was hauled away by authority. I had to stay in a mental institution for - like - ever, even though I wasn’t being crazy. I was just showing those jerks how wrong they were. 

Geez, everybody always gets in such a fuss whenever I do anything. 

Like this one time, I needed some hair to make a rope (ropemaking is a very satisfying hobby of mine), so I took some scissors to one of the blondies in my class. She totally freaked, and I was sent to the principal’s office. Ugh, some people just aren’t cool, you know?

Anyway, my name’s Desdemona Goodman. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. My first name’s pretty ironic, considering I’m not actually evil or a psychopath. Or both. Okay, that’s enough about my name. I am eighteen years old. Just turned last month. The birthday didn’t go very well. 

I guess I should explain. Otherwise, you’ll think I’m a psychopath like everyone else. 

I have a friend named Terrie. Uh, I suppose it’s more correct that I had a friend named Terrie. Anyway, she was the only one who liked hanging around with me. At least, that’s what she always said. 

I’m getting off track here. So she decided to throw me a party. Cake. Balloons. Crap ton of gifts. Great party. 

But then a boy my age arrived. It was her cousin, Terrie told me. I do have to say, he was hot. Hot in that computer nerd way. He had curly hair, and his curls were constantly dropping into his eyes. So he had to constantly brush them out of his face so he could freakin’ see. That was a major problem: one I felt the urge to fix. After all, you’re supposed to be really nice to your guests, aren’t you?

So he ended up falling asleep on the couch (he’d stayed up doing random nerdy stuff on his computer all night last night). While Terrie was in the bathroom, I grabbed some scissors that were always kept on a high shelf (seriously, why is that?). Then I snipped his hair. 

The instant he woke up and glanced at himself in the living room mirror, he freaked. Like, he screamed like a lunatic. He then took one look at the scissors in my hand and called me several rude words, none of which I appreciated. So I taught him a lesson. 

Terrie was not thrilled. In fact, she was downright horrified. I don’t know why, though. I’d only punched him in the face and then proceeded to cut the rest of his curls out...and part of his face, too, by accident (mostly). He deserved it, though! He’d called me some mean names!

I told Terri, and she just stared at me like I’d said something crazy. Then she yelled that she was calling the police and that she couldn’t stand my behavior anymore. She said she had been hoping she’d be a good influence on me. 

Of course, that made me mad. After all, Terrie was trying to change who I was! And she was going to rat me out for something that wasn’t even that big a deal! 

So I pushed her. Terrie’s eyes got really wide. I won’t forget how big the whites of her eyes got. I’d seen that happen with tons of animals that I had mutilated and tortured in the past. It was truly fascinating. 

I snipped my scissors once just to see what would happen. Terrie glanced at the scissors and back at me, as if I might go psycho and murder her. I wouldn’t do that. Not to my friend, even if she was being a terrible one right now. 

In fact, I wasn’t even thinking about that right then. I couldn’t get the image of her widened eyes out of my head. They were just so fascinating. Seriously. 

So I decided to take a souvenir that I could keep forever. 

“Miss Goodman.”

I looked up. It was one of those institution guys. He was always checking into my room every few minutes. Like I’d so something crazy. 

Didn’t he know I wasn’t a loony like the other people in here? I wasn’t thinking crazy thoughts like they were. 

“May I see your diary?” he asked. 

I rolled my eyes before handing it over. He required us to write in diaries everyday. To keep track of our “sanity”? I didn’t know why he had us do them. All I knew was that it drove me crazy! 

“You’re not crazy or a psychopath, huh?” he asked. 

“Will you just shut up!” I snapped as I leapt to my feet. He quickly backed away, and I shook my head angrily. “You just think I’m some crazy psychopath like the rest of these loons! The thing is, I’m not! I’m not!”

His eyes then widened. Fascination arose in me just like it had with Terrie. 

Suddenly, his eyeballs popped out of his sockets and dropped to the ground. He screamed while I stared down at the rolling balls of icky squishy stuff in awe, wondering what had just happened.

Then the institution guy dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. A guy stood behind him.

He was tall and had a wiry kind of body. There was a scar spread across the entirety of his face. There were also scars on his wrist. His emerald eyes were glinting with glee. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve called them psychotic. 

He squatted down and picked up the eyeballs before stuffing them into his pocket. He then glanced at me, and a small smile formed on his lips. “Hi,” he greeted me shyly. 

My cheeks flushed red. “Hi.”

“So, are you into eyes? Or is it just me?”

I grinned. “I like it when they get all wide.”

He grinned right back at me. “So do I!”

He then held out his hand, and I took it before we went running out of the facility together, ready to unleash some totally sane mischief onto our city.