Chapter Forty-One

 

Malory had also been nicknamed ‘the executioner’ by the
media, after they found out about her mock crucifixions and hanged victims.

Everyone
in the madhouse feared her except one boy her own age by the name of Orlando.
He was a bit of a psycho in some ways, and teased Malory terribly at first. He
didn’t seem to care that she was a murderer.

“So
you’re the Executioner?”

He’d
said to her at first, grinning.

“So
you’re the cross-dresser?”

She’d
retorted, noticing he was wearing black nail-varnish.

He’d
shrugged.

“I
lost a bet but I think I’ll revert to the whole Goth-look.”

He
explained.

“Well
get a shade of black that doesn’t have glitter in it. I’ll swap you plain black
for that glitter one.”

Malory
told him, rolling her eyes.

“Of
god, I hadn’t noticed there was glitter in it!”

He
muttered, embarrassed.

Gradually
they’d become friends, then slowly best friends, then eventually inseparable.

They
were never ‘boyfriend-girlfriend’ or anything like that, but they seemed to
have an unspoken rule that neither was to look for that sort of thing from the
other.

But
even with a friend to keep her somewhat sane, there was a lot of things going
on in Malory’s head that couldn’t be sorted out.

The End

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