The inside of Dess's house was...as I'd expected it to be. Not too posh, not too shabby, not too clean, not too messy. A homely home. She pushed me and Kitty up the stairs and I could vaguely hear a short conversation between her and her mom. I couldn't help but smile at what her mom must think about her having a strange seventeen year old boy in her daughter's room.
The second we walked into Dess's room, Kitty sat on a swivel chair. Swivel chairs, such childish delights. I, on the other hand, inspected her books. And found one that suited my liking perfectly. A book on Greek Gods and Godesses. I picked it up and sat on her windowsill. Windows are good places to sit. They make for an easy escape. I leafed through the book, skipping Zeus all together. I never liked Zeus. He was too self-absorbed; a dictator. The reason this particular book caught my interest links back to the crash. See, when I found out I was a freak at the young age of twelve my mindset changed. I became withdrawn from the world yet suffered from a deity complex. To get all specific that's Narcissistic Personality Disorder. I spent almost all of my time trying to save people when they didn't stand a chance. I think I caused more damage that way. Which is when I picked up the Sadism. What can I say, I'm a twisted person.
Y'know, my brain's a pretty messed up place. Not only do I have the Sadism and Narcissism, there's also the anxiety that comes with said narcissism (and usually Borderline Personality Disorder (I won't break into the specifics of that one)). Then, to completely contradict the narcissism, there's a good chance I have Schizoid Personality Disorder. So basically, I'm fascinated by other people's pain to the extent that I'll cause it, I overestimate my abilities and have an excessive need for admiration and affirmation yet suffer from a need for social isolation and feel no desire to form close bonds, I have unusual levels of instability in mood which causes a thing called splitting which means I mostly see the world in extremes (all good or all bad) which then causes anxiety for the simple reason that if the other is perceived as bad then so is the self. Basically, if I ever had a girlfriend I'd perceive both of us as good. My brain would have a panic attack and change my perception of the girl to bad but as a result it would change the perception of myself to bad and cause the anxiety over again. I've just learnt to live with it.
"I hate doing that to her" Dess said as she flopped onto her bed, breaking me away from my train of thought. Which in all honesty was starting to give me a headache; I'm not built to be a psychologist.
"There was another way to get round it" I said, not lifting my eyes from the book which I had begun to read.
"You didn't control her, did you?" Kitty asked.
Evidently Dess was going to ignore both of us, stating something about macaroni. I've not overly keen on macaroni but I'll take what I'm dealt. Macaroni it is. I didn't look up from the book until I'd read it cover to cover, skipping Zeus of course. Apparantly my Schizoid was being dominant today. Dess...I suppose I could call her my friend. I wouldn't exactly seek out her help in a tough situation. Actually, I wouldn't go to anyone. But like I said, I suppose I could call her a friend but I felt no desire to speak to her. Or Kitty. I was perfectly happy being the scary "emo" boy in the window.
Dess knew nothing of my many personality disorders so the book served as my escape. To her and Kitty it must've seemed like I was really interested but in all honesty I knew most of the stories about the Greek Gods by heart. But, like all things, the book had to come to an end and I no longer had an excuse not to talk.
"Hey, Dess, does your mom know you're a freak like the rest of us?" I asked a little arrogantly.
Oh dear, sadist Laurence has come out to play.