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All My Reasons For Insanity

My Psychotic Mentality Is So Unique

*Erika's P.O.V.*

I stared at the mirror, the 5'4 dirty blonde girl stared back. The braces I've had through my teenage years where no more, the thick rimmed glasses long replaced by successful lasik surgery. The girl on the outside hated the inside me, the one who grew up wanting to be the archeologist, the nerd.

"Go sell your body some more, no one will take you serious in this world."The words my professor had just used not ten minutes before still stung at my inner being. The girl in the mirror looked to sneer at my pathetic sobbing and instantly caused my emotions to change from sad to angered. I wanted to scream, loose control of all my senses.

And I did.

Before I could realize what I was doing, the girl in the mirror was overcome by the growing cracks, and the shattered pieces of glass clattered to the floor, landing with a certain grace, almost ballerina-like.

The glass that had buried itself into my hand glimmered with my blood, as the realization of the episode flowed through my thoughts. A girl that had just strode out of a bathroom stall behind me screamed and fell to the floor, I assumed feigning at the sight of blood.

I picked up my tote and swung it around my shoulder, making haste to escape the public bathroom on the schools campus, and make my way to the dorm I shared with my boyfriend, Shawn. The skies where an orange pink, due to the setting sun, and I pulled at the remaining protruding shards in my hand and dropped them onto the ground as I walked. I had an anger problem. It was particularly influenced by my big brother, and if we were ever in an argument, it wasn't one you would want to be a part of.

An oddly tall man with black hair and several visible tattoos scurried along the pathway about ten feet ahead of me, yelling something I didn't hear do to the anger rattling my mind. As he peeked at me out of the corner of his eye, he waved and pointed towards me, turning to talk to a non-existing person behind him. When he realized that he was talking to himself, he glanced back at me and blushed before running back to where he came from. I shrugged of the awkward encounter.

approaching my dorm, I swung open the front door, the loud ambiance of video games and moaning intermediatly occupying my ears, and I sighed before taking the few steps to see Derek and Lizzy making out on my couch as two other guys and my fiance sat around the TV. I said my hello's, and Shawn jumped up from his spot to pull me into the kitchen.

"What are you doing home so early, baby?" He asked, kissing my forehead. I hid my battered hand in my back pocket and excepted his loving embrace.

"The professor called me out after class, pretty much told me not to come back." I sighed. and he shrugged it off.

"Well, since you're home, you should make us lunch before you head to work." This made my face redden, but I agreed at the simple favor and as soon as he left the kitchen to return to his buddies I dropped my bags and discreetly cleaned off my hands in the sink. As I finished rinsing off the blood and bandaging my hand, I grinned and scouted the top cabinets until I found my remedy, alcohol. I took a long swig of the intoxicating chemical and instantaneously felt lighter on the term of events for today. After a few more sips my muscles relaxed, only to go haywire at the touch of Shawn's hands around my waist.

"What's wrong with your hand?" Was the first thing out of his mouth as he attempted to calm me by kissing my ear sweetly, but his question was soon followed by "You shouldn't be drinking, Erika."

"Nothing's wrong with my hand." I growled, prying his hands away from my frame. "And you shouldn't have alcohol in the dorm if you cared so much about my being."

"Come on, babe. I'm twenty five, I'm allowed to have a drink."

"And I'm twenty three." I retorted. His harsh denial to my known drinking problem pushed me over the edge time and time again. no matter how many times I snuck into his vodka stash and admitted to it, he still continued to stock up on various amounts of alcohol.

I turned to glare into his bright green eyes, only to realize that they were leaning towards a gray, almost emotionless as his words have been over the course of the twenty minutes I'd been home. Diverting my eyes to the pile of mail on the counter, only one thing to say escaped my lips, and I knew I wanted an answer to set me in good spirits. "Did I get any mail or calls today?"

"You never get mail or calls, babe. We already came to the conclusion that your family is disturbed and want nothing to do with you." Was always the answer. I began to feel a little disowned.

"You know what, I think I'm going to head in early." I sighed, running my fingers through Shawn's fairly long light brunette hair and exchanging another kiss with him before pulling away. He flashed a small smile and nodded.

"Just be careful."

"I will." I replied, picking my hand bag up off the floor and drifting past him. The walk to my workplace, Silhouette's Stands, A local strip club and bar, was less that a mile, so the walk was always short and relaxing. As I approached the front doors, I stopped and scowled at myself. This was the reason I was getting shooed away by my professors, but a girl has to do what a girl has to do.

After all, I wasn't selling my body, I was just a waitress.

At least I didn't take off my clothes, but instead wore limited clothing. That's not too bad, is it?

Sighing, I stepped through the frame of the building and made my way to the back dressing room, looking at the bar only once to spot my friend, Grace, and exchange the friendly wave to her before disappearing into the next room. I slipped into my revealing uniform, fitting daisy dukes and and a tank top with "Silhouette's Stands" across my breasts, and strolled back onto the floor, taking a seat on the stool sitting directly in front of where Grace was currently standing.

"I need a drink, Gracie." I grunted, and she sighed, frustrated with being the only person who actually cared if I kept my promise to stay sober. "I've already had a few sips before I came in, so don't bother with the lecture." I added quickly.

"I think you're stressing yourself too much." She said, turning to mix the shots she knew I wanted. "With Shawn pushing the engagement on you, plus education. Still no word from your sister?" Gracie was like my mother; she knew everything that was wrong with me and she encouraged me to do what I knew to be the right thing.

"No." I answered automatically, throwing the shot to the back of my throat. She kept the shots coming, which kept my mouth busy for the most part. When my shift finally came about, I climbed clumsily off the stool and leaned against the bar to try and get my balance back.

"It's not smart for the employee to consume the product she's trying to sell." Gracie sang, and I gave her my middle finger.

"Too late for the words to the dumb." I retorted, grabbing at my head to try and stop the room from spinning. My thoughts automatically focused on what my professor had commented on, and it occurred to me, he wanted me to sell my body? I bet I could do it better than any other woman in this joint.

My eyes automatically fell to a single figure standing alone near the bar, and I straightened myself up before striding towards the figure. I quickly realized that it was the tall tattooed guy from my encounter on campus.

"A customer's a customer. A customer's a customer." I muttered under my breath as I approached him.


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