Call it Empathy

Chapter I

"Hi, this is a book about my life. How I lived and died. Your typical teenage story. The difference between my story and every teenage drama you've seen on TV is that I have schizophrenia. If you don't know what it is I'll give you a little lesson on it. Its a mental disorder that affects my emotions and behavior. Its my escape from reality, literally. I was first diagnosed with it when I was fifteen. My story starts when I was fourteen."
As soon as I hit the period on my type writer my mothers wretched whiney voice scretches my name from the bottom of the stairs. " Finn you have to go to school!" The thing you have to know about her is she is a history professor at Oakley Plantation 11 minutes from St. Francisville, Louisiana. So she thinks she knows everything.
I grabbed my all black beat up backpack. I ran down stairs to meet my mother at the bottom of the dark stained wooden stairs. Her dark black hair curled around her face with her big blue ocean eyes looking into my soul. She was wearing her black blouse with big buttons going all the way down and her tight pencil skirt hugging her hips. I feel like she is trying to get a attention. It's so bothersome to know that she is just hunting for someone's contemplation. My father died when I was fourteen so three years ago. To think its too soon but I guess she has to keep up a reputation. "Did you take your medications today hun?" She asked as her eyes squinted at me as if she actually gave a shit about me. "Yes mother, why would I want to go back to the broken down facility that you can't even afford?" I said with hate and irritation.
I got into my classic beauty and drove to school. Speeding into the parking lot almost hitting some kids standing in the middle of the road. Everyone murmuring and looking at me like I'm going to flip at any second. Its like I'm some kind of circus act. I grabed the roof and pulled myself out of the window. Reached into my never ending pocket to my American Eagle blue jeans I grabbed for my cigarettes. I just realized I only had three left. I smoke menthols I like the smooth minty taste it leaves in my mouth. I panned over the area, checking who's looking at me. Believe it or not but the girls dig guys who are unstable and have amazing cars. I chuckle to myself outloud. I leaned up on my vehicle watching the stupid shit stains talking amongst each other. I flicked my cigarette and hopped back in my fathers beautiful candy apple red 1969 ZL1 Camero. I loved this car and so did he. Fuck I miss him.