06/2008 | Baton Rouge, LA
The human brain was a complex concept. Made up of soft tissue, non-neuronal cells, and blood cells, mostly everyone had the same general makeup.
But yet, people were all so different. If brains are all made of the same thing, why do people think so differently from one another? Act so differently?
What was different about his mind, than yours, when they're both made up of the same thing? Is he crazy, are you crazy? I mean, you do have the same genetic makeup of his brain, he's just-missing a few screws.
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"Where you hiding at lil dude?" A young Kentrell mumbled, walking around the small closet he was locked in.
It was dark, and the only visible light was the minimal glare from the other side of the door. He didn't mind it though, he sort of preferred the dark.
He got on his hands and knees, feeling a small amount of dust grace his palms, and he immediately frowned. He hated dirt.
He dusted his hands in the air, his brown orbs searching through the dark on the floor. It wasn't that much space, so where could he have gone?
"Gotcha'." He smirked, picking up a mouse by its tail, holding it in the air after feeling it run across his shoe.
"Why you keep running from me fa'?" He frowned, sitting down on the ground as the tiny mouse squealed in his grip.
"Momma gone get you. She said them exterminator people came and got all y'all." He told the mouse, although it didn't respond-of course.
"I will make it easy, okay? Promise." He deviously grinned, placing the mouse's tail under his right shoe to hold it in place.
He lifted his left foot, repeatedly smashing it down on the mouse as it let out loud squeaks of pain, before it went silent, and Kentrell kept going.
Within a matter of seconds he'd flattened the mouse completely, the guts splattering out after the skin had ripped.
Kentrell heard footsteps, and he stopped, walking quickly to the closet door and knocking on it.
"Mama I'm in here." He said, hearing heavy locks unlocking.
"Kentrelll? Now how the hell you get in there?" His mom, Sherhonda, slurred heavily after opening the door.
"You put me inside. Again." He mumbled, closing the door before she could see what he had done.
"Come the fuck on. We got shit to do." She stumbled out of his room, falling in the hallway, making him frown.
Kentrell followed her out, watching as she staggered out of the door of their small apartment.
"Where is TeeLee and Kendell?" He asked, holding her hand as she roughly pulled him out of the breezeway of their building.
"With they dumbass daddy. If I knew yours you'd be with his ass too. Now shut the fuck up and get in the car." She snatched away from him, and he climbed in the passenger seat of her car.
He put his seat belt on, fixing the front strap so that it laid flat across his chest. He pressed out the wrinkles of his cargo shorts, hearing his mom cranking the car up.
He folded his hands neatly in his lap, not wanting to touch the arm rest, not able to see the dirt on it.
The car swerved a bit as his mom drove as best she could with how intoxicated she was, her eyes dazing on the road.
After a dangerous ride, they'd finally arrived to a large building that had many windows. Kentrell liked windows.
He watched as his mom staggered towards the door, attempting to get herself together.
"Bring yo ass boy!" She called, and he rolled his eyes in embarrassment, following her inside.
After getting directions from the receptionist, they stood in front of the door of the office Kentrell had an appointment in.
Sherhonda twisted the door handle, ushering him inside.
"Oh! I didn't know you guys were here. Hello Sherhonda, Kentrell, how are you sweetie?" His psychiatrist, Mrs.Saw, spoke to the both of them.
Kentrell ignored her, quietly getting into the seat, his feet hanging in the air since he was too short to reach the ground from the high chair.
"Girl get on with it, I got shit to do." Sherhonda waved her off, slouching in the seat.
"Uh-So, let's start off with the Rorschach test for the last session, alright? I'm going to hold up a few different pictures, I just want you to tell me what you see Kentrell." Mrs.Saw spoke as he stared at her with a soft glare.
"What do you see here?" She asked, holding up a picture.
"Two wolves fighting with people hyping dem' up." He mumbled, already bored.
"Is this facing towards you or away from you?" She held up another.
"Towards me. That mane from the corn field." He said, remembering watching the movie with his older sister TeeLee.
"In this one, do you see bugs, faces, or nothing?" She asked, showing him another one.
"Tell her what you see Kentrell." A black fog of smoke emerged from the picture, talking to him-and Mrs.Saw could visibly see his eyes darken.
"Kentrell?" She called again, and he watched as a face began to shape from the fog.
"Kentrell do you see me? Do you see me? Can you see me? Do you see me? Am I here? Kentrell?" A voice taunted, and he blinked, before the picture went back to normal, a figment of his imagination.
"I don't wanna do this anymore." He said, his tone flat. He wasn't afraid of the voice, it'd been there too long.
"Alright. Did something happen?" She asked, wanting to know what'd unsettled him.
Kentrell did good with hiding his emotions. It wasn't visible in his voice, his expression, nor in his body language. But Mrs.Saw was trained with kids like him, so she knew that something had happened.
"No. I said I don't wanna do it anymore." He repeated, his voice with a slight hint of anger, and she nodded.
Mrs.Saw looked over at Sherhonda who had dozed off in the chair, making her shake her head in disappointment.
"Kentrell-did something happen at home?" She frowned, just now realizing bloody footprints on her carpet, leading to Kentrell's seat.
"No." He said, and she pointed, making him turn his head.
"No." He repeated again, facing back towards her, and she slowly nodded.
"How are you feeling?" She asked, and he didn't respond, his small brown orbs piercing deep into hers.
At his young age of 11, he did very well with intimidating others. He didn't do it on purpose, his whole demeanor was just offsetting.
"Why are you afraid?" He asked, and she rose an eyebrow.
"What made you ask?" She reversed, curious with the small boy.
He pointed, and she looked down, realizing that she was silently tapping her fingers at a fast pace against her desk.
"I'm not afraid. Just-concerned." She half lied. She'd never had a case as traumatic and off putting as his.
"Uhhuh." He sarcastically replied, looking around her clean office.
He fixed the container of pencils on her desk, and she watched as he fixed a few different other things, putting them the way he liked.
"Was it messed up?" She asked him, and he didn't respond, his eyes locking on hers once again. He didn't like to be interrupted.
He removed his hands from his desk, sitting back and tapping Sherhonda awake.
"What?" She groggily rubbed her eye, and Kentrell kept his eyes on Mrs.Saw, watching as she uncomfortably looked away.
"Ms.Gaulden, I'd like to discuss Kentrell's diagnosis' if that's alright?" She opened up a folder, and Sherhonda sat up, rolling her eyes.
"After the last few meetings, Kentrell has been diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive personality disorder, intermittent explosive disorder, schizoaffective disorder, as well as borderline personality disorder."
Mrs.Saw read from the paper, and Sherhonda's eyes damn near bulged from her head.
"All of that?! In this dumbass boy?" She questioned, and Mrs.Saw sighed at the insulting name to the young child.
"Yes, Kentrell has multiple personality disorders. I'd like to discuss treatments and programs to get him enrolled into, to try and help." Mrs.Saw looked between the two of them, seeing the bored expression on his face.
And this was the beginning of a very confusing life, that Kentrell never asked for.
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