101 Psychos

#38 - Wannabes

Psycho #38 - Wannabes -

-

A Tale of Malingering:

Refers to an individual who fabricates or exaggerates the symptoms of a mental or physical disorder. This is done for a variety of "secondary gain" motives, including financial compensation (often tied to fraud); avoiding school, work or military service; obtaining drugs; getting lighter criminal sentences; or simply to attract attention or sympathy.

Individuals with dominant psychosis tend to be offended by those Malingering. Individuals with violent diagnoses tend to turn hostile.

-

I didn't really fit in anywhere. I wasn't overly pretty or slutty and so I didn't make the cut as a popular kid. I wasn't super brainy either therefore I didn't mesh well with the geeks. I didn't understand sports and I couldn't sing or act. the reality was I wasn't really good at anything. Just average.

Because of this I went unnoticed by most. I didn't even think anyone knew my name. I became depressed and heard cutting myself might help ease the pain. I used a safety pin but it hurt and so I didn't go very deep. The blood dried quickly and I was left with what resembled cat scratches. I tried a few more times, but couldn't bring myself to cut any deeper.

I wore long sleeves or thick bracelets regardless, so as not to alarm my parents. It was during class that someone first saw the little cuts. My bracelet shifted while I furiously scribbled down the assignments answers.

The school Jock and bully grabbed my wrist, "What are you, some kind of crazy chick?" he'd taunted.

That was when the wheels started whirling. He noticed me, and I wasn't ignored. I could become someone; the psycho girl. I decided to go with it, the desire to be known for something, anything, was overpowering.

I embraced the idea of being an overly depressed teenager, traumatized by some fabricated past event. I didn't hide my scratches anymore and received both disgusted and concerned looks. I was being noticed and it was all that mattered at the time. Still, I didn't belong to any group and my desires to be somebody grew stronger. I set my eyes on the "bad kids". Surely they would accept me and my self mutilation.

I watched the group of degenerates for a week before approaching them. They seemed to have a secret ranking among themselves, and I quickly managed to pinpoint the leader; a legal adult guy forced to repeat his senior year due to bad attendance. The others seemed to move out of his way without instruction, as if he were Moses and them the Red Sea. If I were to join the group, it would have to be with his blessing.

I dressed for the occasion. After paying close attention to the delinquents clothing I decided a simple black tank top would suffice. I wanted to be seen as one of them, and so I needed to dress the part.

I didn't know how to approach the group so I waited until the ring leader broke off to go his own way. I almost backed out of my plan and acted quickly in an attempt to keep my feelings of cold feet at bay.

"Hey." I said after catching up to him in the hall.

He glanced sideways at me and smiled, "Hey yourself. What's up?"

I became nervous and realized I didn't plan out how to start the conversation.

"Not much, just wanted to chat." I answered.

"Chat with a friend, I'm busy." he barked.

Realization of my predicament set it, "I don't have any friends."

He sighed and stopped walking to face me, "And you thought to talk to me why?"

"I- I don't know," I mumbled while looking at the ground and tugging my too small top back down, "I guess I just thought -"