Psychotic Lovers

Chapter 1

Margot Robbie as Scarlet

I knew that my illness was back the minute I killed my boyfriend's cat. First of all I would like to give bits of details about my life and why I became the way I am. So my name is Scarlett Clarke and I'm 23years old. A few years ago my mom had became so sick and then suddenly we were both so stressed and plunging in a state of depression and low. My mom had a nervous breakdown and suffered from severe depression ever since I've known her. My Dad was the sole breadwinner for our family because of that and he was once a great father and husband until suddenly he changed. It was like he had become the span of Satan when he started cheating on my mom then eventually left me and her. He went ahead and got hooked with my now stepmother who was apparently loaded. For years my Dad and I never spoke, I was mad at him for what he did to our family- he tore us apart, but eventually as times goes by I decided to forgive him just a bit and make the most of the situation. Afterall he was still my dad and even though I wanted to hate him, I couldn't I still love him.

My stepmother Ivan and her daughter wanted my approval since I was the only daughter for my father, and because of them wanting me to like them so much, they'd try to buy my love with material things. I wasn't going to refuse anything, or tell you that I can not play the hypocrite in this situation. If they wanted my approval and respect they were going to have to pay for it big time. I knew what I was doing was wrong in the eyes of many who would called it 'using' or being an opportunist or better yet a sycophant but who cares, my Dad hurt my mom and even though I may have forgiven him somewhat and Ivan was innocent the fact still remain that I hated the situation and vowed that I'd make sure someone pays for it. Even if it means using them for my own benefits, well unfortunately Ivan got the bad end of that stick. I knew that I was selfish and I didn't care, Ivan would call and ask if she could get me anything and I'd order big and expensive stuff and she'd actually send them to me. I'd pretend to like her and her daughter and they would always be getting me things, it made my dad happy to see me being civil to his 'new family' but little did he know that in my mind I was running a big time profitable scam. It was his own damn fault.

As the years past I tried to remain level headed and tried picking myself up but each time things seemed to be going well for me disaster always struck. During my final years in highschool I was still under a rough patch when I became friends with this guy called Lawrence. Lawrence not only became my very first boyfriend but also my bestfriend. He was there for me and my mom and he actually helped me coped with difficult times. I became inloved with Lawrence and Mom was really fond of him too as for my dad? well... not so much. He was upset when he found out I had a boyfriend and that my mom had even allowed it, but I didn't care what my father- Waylan had to say. Lawrence was a n awesome guy to me and I thought who the hell was my dad to be giving anyone any advice or scolding by the way? He had no right when he had no morals of himself, like hello he cheated and left my mom remember? So Lawrence and I dated for three years until we broke up because I had constant mood swings and Lawrence got annoying, always wanting attention and to see me, to call and wants me to be texting him even if I was busy as hell at times. I'm not saying that was all bad things but it was annoying to me and Lawrence felt ignored or deprived and left out after a while. When things weren't going the way he wanted we made a mutual decision to just end the relationship since we both started getting unhappy. However, we remained great friends nonetheless and he was still there for me whenever I needed him.

Now this is where it all began, when things took a turn for the worst. Lawrence who was still my encourager and friend- he had an accident in which he didn't survived. His death was what sent me in a further extreme state of depression. It also affected my mom so bad that she actually started suffering from psychosis. Even though I was depressed myself, I tried to be strong for her. At times mom would just start crying and shouting stuff that didn't make any sense. It frightened the hell out of me and I wonder if she was losing her mind, however a visit to the doctor revealed that it was actually a touch of psychosis. I didn't know what that was before until then when I found out that it was a severe mental disorder in which thought and emotions are so impaired that contact is lost with external reality.
My other family members- my aunts and grandma stepped in to help when they decide we should move and they took us in. My mom got medical help and was treated and eventually she started getting better. I on the other hand did not get the help I probably should have.

I became very good at hiding my feelings and my psychological issues from everyone around me and I'd always appeared to be fine but in reality I wasn't. I couldn't help the cruel or wicked thoughts that would come to my mind at times. Sometimes when I was alone I'd find myself cutting. I knew cutting my self was a sign of mental or psychological disorder but I refused to tell anyone about it or admitted to being sick. I knew I didn't want to kill myself- of course not- I wanted to live, but at times I needed to zone out and cutting did that for me. I also knew that if I did it on my body on exposed skin it would leave scars and signs that people may pick up on therefore I resorted to only cutting inside the palm of my hands. Scars on that part were never permanent and no one noticed. Cutting made me feel alive in a sick and strange way, it made me forget about the real struggles of life.

After a while I felt like I needed to do more, cutting wasn't doing it for me anymore. I thought that maybe if I got a job and start getting out more I'd be able to help myself get better and so that was exactly what I did. I went job hunting and was fortunate enough to gain a job as a receptionist at a little motel in town. My depression decreased and for a while I thought that yes, I was finally coping and life seemed to be getting back on track. My mom wasn't as sickly anymore as she had gotten helped and over her psychosis and depression, all thanks to the strong family support which was excellent. For the first time in a long while things seemed to be progressing and life was good.

About two years ago, I met Sheldon. At first he seemed to be the sweetest thing ever and I against better judgement decided to move in with him. I know it was still too soon even after we'd known each other for a year but somehow I thought that Sheldon could be the real deal of a perfect gentleman, little did I know that he'd turn out to be the Antichrist. He became the rudest, degrading and abusive person I've ever met. The minute he had revealed his true colors was when my depression had came right back. I had to start taking prescribed medication- antidepressants as a result. I still visited my mom and other relatives as well as my Dad and so I had learned to concealed and hide any signs of abuse. Sheldon had became a living nightmare for me, he was verbally and physically abusive and whenever he'd hit me or abused me to a state of being weak then he'd apologize to me and begged for forgiveness and tell me how much he loved me. Before you start calling me stupid for staying with him there's something you should know, Sheldon was a retired soldier and he is very possessive and territorial. I tried leaving him more than once and it didn't end well for me, he threatened to kill me or hurt my family members if I ever try to leave again and I have no doubt that he'd actually carry out the threat so I stayed. Not because I was stupid, but out of fear, some would say why not call the police and take out a restraining order on him? Oh trust me, that won't work I know, they'd arrest him then let him go a few days after and I'd suffer the wrath of his anger from getting others involved.

Monday evening he got mad at me because a customer at the new jewelry store that I now work- was being nice to me and offered me a bonus on his purchased. Sheldon watched me like a hawk and would stop by my work place almost everyday. He saw me being nice to a customer in the day and snapped when I got home. Calling me all sorts of names and how I was getting paid to be all buddy buddy with the male customers. When I tried to explained things to him he wasn't having it and smacked me across my face. The force of the blow caused me to fell to the kitchen floor and that's where Sheldon left me as he went out to have drinks.

I remained on the floor crying over the misfortune and messed I had found myself in, I didn't know why life was being so cruel to me. As I sat there crying, Sheldon's old smelly annoying cat came there meowing and scratching at my leg, as if I hadn't undergo enough torment and abuse already. I was so upset and feeling so much rage that I grabbed that old scruffy cat by the neck and started beating its body on the floor until it went still. Somehow I still wasn't satisfied and I grabbed a large knife in the kitchen and started stabbing it. As I continued stabbing the dead cat and saw the blood flowing from its body, I felt a sick sense of peace, contentment and satisfaction. When I was pleased and stopped stabbing the already dead cat,  I thought to myself 'I always heard that cats have nine lives, well then let me see you be resurrected after that bish'. I watched the bloodied cat laid there I felt a smile on my face knowing I'd gotten revenge on Sheldon. As I throw the bloodied knife in the sink I watched with pride as the blood being wash off from it down the drain, I again felt that great sense of satisfaction and it was that moment I realized that I was actually sick...