Scarecrow: Damn Psychologists

I wanted to kill someone, something, anything. I hated my life. I hated SCIT. I hated Jagan.

I stalked into the house after him, tears still freely falling from my eyes. I couldn't stop them if I tried. Drake tried to say something but I cut him off with a wave of my hand. I walked straight past Jagan and Beth, past Foster and Dani, and through to the kitchen.

I was oblivious to who was following me or talking to me. I opened the fridge, took out the milk, and sat on the table holding it in my hand.

What was the point? How can I change who I am? I don't know how to be any different. It's the way I grew up. Funnily enough it was my Mother that made me this way, treating me like a hired mercenary to look after Beth all the time.

Then when I joined the army, that was more training, more rule.

I don't see the point now. If that's all I do to people then maybe I shouldn't be around people.

I put the milk down without taking a drink out of it and thought about my house up in the mountains. I could go there for a while, be alone, then after that who knows.

I walked into the study and grabbed a bag, stuffing things into it that I thought I'd need. I could sense someone behind me, Foster or Jagan, I don't know who it was, but I ignored them and without even looking up at who it was I just walked out of the room and down the hallway. I paused at the door with my back to everyone.

"You're right Jagan, I just hurt people. I'm sorry." I shook my head and strode quickly to where I'd dropped my bike, yanking it upright and jumping on.


I kick started the bike and roared off towards the mountains. I needed time to think.

The End

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