3 first day of my life as a high schooler

      Long story short my name thaia scalatare I'm known as the anxiety killer. I'm a girl by the way with green and black hair silver-blue blue eyes steely olive skin, very skinny, and always in soft clothing, mainly in t-shirts and sweats.

     Mom: female with black hair, silver eyes, pasty white skin, average height, skinny and itchy fabrics mainly in dresses. Her name is Jeanien Hainai scalatra.

       Father: male with green hair, blue eyes, olive skin, tall, very skinny, and always in soft fabrics mainly in jeans and button-up up shirt.his name is donic scatra.       

     We live in a small brick house. 5 miles from the high school. The house used to be a place that housed victims of murder. We live in an "ok" kind of neighborhood. I lived there all my childhood. I HAVE NO FRIENDS.

  To know why I do this well…. It all started after I began high school. The headmaster was nice but everyone wouldn't give me space and well ….  My anxiety got really bad. I had to leave and my doctor gave me pills but it was to mask my symptoms. Silly me forgot to take them and now I have to suffer a whole day without it so it would be like withdrawal for addicts. And sorry to break it to you, but at some point, we're all addicts. 

     So I get home and my dad is on the couch watching some black and white classic movies. I told him why I'm home.

     After rushing to my room to isolate myself as if that would help, but I got so used to it and I felt safer. I sit in the dark to calm down but my heart is super racy and I'm not thinking straight, I feel it sucks because I'm literate.

       Us literates are misunderstood by society. We see black and white but really we forget about grey. The grey is your plot charters and anti's people who can't side with one side or the other. 

      As I sat there my thoughts were everywhere and oddly I found red paint in my room and painted the walls smiling in a twisted way singing a song of pure insanity. Then Bam, the lights come on and my parents are at the door with looks of pure horror on their faces. Because I had painted blood on my wall and it was a victim of an infamous killer. I'm pretty sure it was the guy who gave us the house. I looked at them but I felt as if I killed an animal and enjoyed it at that point. I walked up to them and kissed their cheeks as if nothing happened and went to cook steak and pork kabobs. 

     As I was cooking I felt a hand on my back and it stiffened a little bit. I whirled around and jumped up 5 inches. Turns out it was my dad.

     "Whoops." That rarely happens so why did that scare me? Because I have been in this anxiety of mixed episodes lately. And I also forgot to take the pills this morning.

"Honey, we want to talk about today."

"There's really not much to talk about."

"Ok, then did you take your meds?"

"I forgot, and we were in a rush."

"That is no excuse, sweetly."

"I know, but I didn't expect touching and feeling people." 

"Ok, but this will not happen again or else…."

"Promise no more." 

"Now what happened in your room?"

"I don't know, but I enjoyed it to a certain extent." 

"I saw blood on your walls." 

"I thought that was red paint."

"No sweets that were blood." 

"Well, hum, I hope the police don't knock on our door."

"That's a problem because your aunt and dad are on the force." 

"I'm sure they don't care."

"They do, and the blood is not easy to clean when it gets splattered on a wall."

"Good to know."  

"Also we live in a house that stores victims' bodies."

"What?"

"Sorry, we never told you."

"Wait! Our house is full of victims' bodies."

"Yes, and your room was the main blood bath."

"Why me?"

"We don't know, but God has a plan for you."

       We walk to the table, eat dinner, and part ways. Dad goes to the graveyard shift, and mom stays in her room watching tv. Which leaves me cleaning the kitchen and "hiding" as my mom calls it.