Multiple Personalities

Molly

    I am not fucking crazy. I do not belong here. Fuck all of them, my family, my therapist. What do they know? They're all idiots, I'm not crazy.
These were young Molly Pollenger's thoughts as she climbed the stairs of "Hashfeild Sanitarium" for the first time. For more than a year had passed since then, and she was still stuck there, she probably would never get out. She was only 15 at the time here parents placed her there after she was diagnosed with Multiple Personality Disorder.
Molly was always a sweet girl, she had a bit of a potty mouth, but she was always nice to everyone. She had long, black hair which she made a point out of brushing and grooming. She loved to feel pretty, like a princess. She would fix her hair and do her makeup every day and she loved to wear frilly dresses with lots of bows and lace. She was typical "girly girl" and she loved it.
It hurt her soul when she was told she would not be allowed to have makeup inside the asylum, and she had to wear a solid white uniform that looked more like pajamas than a decent outfit. She was heartbroken and furious. She was even more furious when she woke up one day and found all of her hair to have been cut off; her once beautiful dark hair was now nappy and choppy, it looked as if it'd been cut by a chainsaw. She had no memory of someone cutting it and she had no idea how it happened. The head mistress of the asylum and the nurses refused to tell her, which only pissed her off more. Strange things like that happened to her all the time, she would wake up with new bruises, or her friends in the asylum would suddenly be furious with her for no reason. This phenomenon perplexed her, but she figured it best not to question it too much. Not much logic can be found within an asylum anyway.