The 'Psycho' In Psychology

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   Hello, my names Sybil. You may remember me from such news reports as the girl who murdered her best friend. You know, the girl who was shipped to a mental institute after attempting to strangle her dear mother?

   Yes, I’m that Sybil.

   Today was as normal as you could get in Cherry Hills. The room was just as bright, the food just as bland and the residents just as unhinged. Cutting Callie was being dragged into isolation by The White Coats, her hysterical screams bouncing of the white walls of the cafeteria. It happened so often no-one really noticed anymore.

   I kept my head down as I usually did, spooning in mouthful after mouthful of tasteless cardboard, as if this would actually make up for the things I’ve done. Pyro Patricia was twirling a match longingly between her fingers by the overflowing bin while OCD Oliver arranged his plastic knife and fork with squinty eyes. Skin and Bones Sally bit her fingers until they bled opposite me, and as usual her plate of macaroni was untouched.

   “Do you know how many calories that has in it Schizo?” She said, shoving a skinny, bleeding finger at my plate.

   I shrugged “There’s a reason your name is Skin and Bones Sally you know…”

   You see, there was an unspoken agreement in Cherry Hills. As soon as you were admitted you earned a nickname. I bet you can’t guess mine; Schizophrenic Sybil. Yeah, I should be so happy.

   Although I couldn’t blame them. Everything about me whispered of a diseased mind, from my white hair to my ice blue eyes. Even the way I walked was - quote - introverted. God knows what people would think if they were in my head, heard the things I heard or saw the things I saw. And I wasn't even schizophrenic. No, it was much worse for me, because no-one knew what was wrong with me.

   I saw ghosts.

   They floated around all the time when my medication wore off, waving when they knew they’d been seen.

   The familiar scraping of the medication trolley sounded and cups and pills in rainbow colours where handed out. I was grateful for the pills: already the faint wispy outlines of dead people where assaulting my vision. Already I felt my sanity slipping away.

   I popped the pink pills into my mouth and swallowed my meds like a good little mental patient.

   "Sybil dear, Dr. Mahonie would like to see you in his office after lunch." Said Clarence, a hopeless nurse who always had her face plastered into a smile. She patted my shoulder sympathetically before moving onto the next patient, Patricia. I barely had time to see Clarence snatch the match out of her hand before Delirious Drew jumped down from the ceiling - yes, the ceiling - and grinned his trademark manic grin.

   "Mornin' Schizo! You lose your mind yet?" He yelled. The White Coats watched him cautiously, ready to hold him down if he suddenly decided to go insane. It seemed pretty stupid seeing as he had far gone past that point anyway.

  "Back again Drew? Tell me, what did you do this time. Burn any innocent bystanders?" I was only half joking. Drew was in and out of this place constantly, but no-one seemed to mind too much. If anything, it was too quiet without him. Sometimes I even thought the nurses missed him when he was gone.

   Drew laughed "Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do!" He slung his arm over my shoulders and saw the shocked look on my face "Jeez joking! I just love it here soo much."

   I gently pushed him off, allowing myself a small smile. "Dr.Mahonie wants to see me. I'll see you later maybe..."

   "Don't go crazy!" I heard him shout behind me.

   Too late, I thought as I stepped onto Dr.Mahonie's lair.

Sybil to the side >>>>> comment please!

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