"I'm not insane."
    The words rolled off my tongue slowly, echoing through my mind with a severity that caused my head to pound. I could feel a headache coming on and scrunched my eyebrows together in irritation. I hugged my knees tighter, trying to bring myself the comfort that the hug of another human being could instill in another. However, I winced when the added pressure was put on the inside of my arms.
    "I'm not insane," I repeated, as if the words would bring rest to my jumbled thoughts.
    "Of course you're not, dear." I looked up to gaze into the sparkling golden eyes of my best friend. My only friend. "You should not listen to those ??????."
    I sighed and let go of the vice-grip I had on my legs, crossing my arms over each other and resting them on my knees. "I know. I just need to reassure myself that I'm not what they say, you know?"
    Irina nodded in understanding, moving towards where I sat curled on my bed with an elegance that no other human could possess. It was an understatement to say that I was jealous of her beauty; I envied it. Irina had long, flowing dark brown hair that curled down her back with the grace and ferocity of a waterfall, mischievous golden eyes that sparkled with a constant intensity, and a lightly tanned complexion—a typically unusual skin tone for one of Russian heritage. Her body structure was that of a model: 5'4", significant curves, flat stomach, average breast size, thin, feminine arms and legs, and flawless skin. Her face was accompanied with plump lips, high cheekbones, and a perfect head shape.
    Not only did she have a beautiful body structure and appearance; she had an amazing taste in fashion, as well. Irina wore gray yoga-like pants with brown high-heeled boots, and a long black silk shirt underneath a dark teal cotton overshirt.
    I couldn't understand how such a beautiful person could be best friends with me.
    I was the complete opposite of "beautiful". I had dull, straight black hair that never did what I wanted it to do, making it frustratingly plain and austere. My dark brown orbs couldn't even compare to Irina's beautiful golden ones. The nickname “Ghost” was derived from my frighteningly pale skin tone.
    “Celina, do not fret over such insignificant insults. You are so much better than them in so many ways.” My eyes met Irina’s with a melancholy gaze, a small smile stretching across my face.
    “Thank you, Irina.”

                *            *            *

    I pulled the sleeves of my jacket lower than they should be, basically stretching them over the heel of my hands. My eyes were trained on the tile floor before me as I made my way to my locker. Meeting the eyes of any other students was not an option; I couldn’t take another day of harassment and bullying.
    Unfortunately, my attempts at being as invisible as possible were to no avail.
    “Hey, look. It’s the freak!”
    I cringed at the announcement, wanting nothing more than to fall through the floor and disappear into the void of nothingness. Ignoring the student, I arrived at my locker and opened it hurriedly, retrieving the necessary binders and books for my first two classes. I slammed the locker door closed and power-walked to my first period, pushing my way through the crowd of classmates that whispered and chuckled to each other as I passed by.
    I entered the room and made my way to my seat, sitting down without a word. I set my supplies down and grabbed my pen and journal, beginning to doodle random images in an attempt to escape reality.
    I felt something hit the back of my head, followed by laughter and giggles from students behind me. I clutched the pen tightly, hoping that I don’t have a breakdown before school even starts.
“What’s wrong, Ghost? Why aren’t you talking to your imaginary friend?”
    I got up quickly, causing my chair to topple to the floor, and briskly turned around, screaming, “She’s not imaginary!”
    The white brunette male with blue eyes smirked. “Oh look, guys. I made the freak upset.”
    The hispanic black-haired girl with brown eyes giggled. “What are you gonna do, Ghost? Send your imaginary friends to attack us?”
    I clenched my hands into tight balls, holding back tears. “Stop it.”
    “Or what?” A white female with blonde hair and green eyes inquired, challenging me with a smirk and arms crossed over her chest.
    I opened my mouth to respond with a witty comeback but closed it when no words came out. I tried again but ended up with the same result. This process happened about two or three more times before I just kept my mouth closed, letting a few tears roll down my cheeks.
    Listening to the laughter of the bullies behind me recede, I ran out of the classroom as quick as I could, seeking refuge in an empty bathroom. I locked myself in a stall and sat down on the toilet seat, curling up and letting the tears flow. My body shook with my sobs, silent cries escaping my throat.
    “Celina, you are not a freak.”
    I continued to cry, ignoring Irina’s attempt at comforting words.
    “Come out, Celina. No one’s around.”
    My sobbing slowed to an occasional whimper and sniffling. I got up and left the stall, seeing the familiar golden orbs of my friend. My bottom lip began to quiver as another wave of tears began to take over. Irina stepped forward and held me in her arms as I continued to stand in the middle of the bathroom, whimpers retreating between my parted lips.
    She pulled away and held me by the shoulders, smiling half-heartedly. “You are no freak, ???????. You can get through the day. It is Friday. If you get through today, then you will have an entire three weeks of no school. Holiday break has arrived.” The Russian’s smile widened slightly, trying to ebb a smile out of me as well.
    She succeeded as a smile adorned my face. “Alright,” I replied. “I ought to get back to class, shouldn’t I? And you ought to, too.”
    Irina nodded and watched me walk out of the restroom. I stepped out of the door and wasn’t walking down the hall for more than ten seconds before I was shoved to the ground. My elbow was the first contact with the hard tile floor, causing a shockwave of pain to resonate throughout my body. Looking up into blue eyes, I noticed that the brunette male from first period had attacked me.
    He began to laugh at the sight of me glaring at him from the ground. “What a freak.”
    I noticed that the other two girls from the classroom accompanied him, giggling together at the scene.
    A kick in the side interrupted my scoping of the area, causing me to cry out in pain. The male’s foot was on its way to execute another attack when I reached up and grabbed his ankle, pulling it forward and causing him to fall to the ground. My eyesight began to transition to tunnel-vision as anger clouded my perception. I reached into my back pocket and retrieved a sharp object. The glint of silver in my hand caused the male’s eyes grow wide with fear.
    “Celina, no!” Irina’s voice was drowned out by my raging thoughts.
    The razor blade pierced the boy’s skin with ease, dark red liquid oozing out of the incision. I ripped the blade out and plunged it into his chest again. And again. And again. And again. The girls’ cries were in no comparison to the boy’s blood-curdling screams. The females ran down the hall, presumably to the office. I didn’t care, however; I was angry, and I needed to let it out.
    Blood covered the scene: my hands, my legs, the boy’s chest, the floor. Everywhere was red. And I felt no remorse.

                *            *            *

    I wrung my bloodied hands together as the high school principal and police officer glared down at me with contempt and fear. I had just finished explaining my side of the story after the two traumatized females gave their side, and now I was sitting in the principal’s office, waiting for someone to speak.
    “Celina, I don’t know what to say.”
    Oh, really. I never would have guessed.
    “You’ve always been such as good student.”
    How would you know? You never cared to try to back me up when I was being assaulted.
    “But this behavior is unacceptable, and…”
    I gazed him in the eyes. “And?”
    He swallowed and continued, “And your actions have warranted you into an insane asylum.”
    I blinked. My body began to shake. Red filled my vision. I stood up quickly, knocking the chair over. I was doing that a lot today. “I’m not insane!” I screamed. “Irina knows! I’m not insane! I’m not insane!”
    I looked over to my left, gazing into Irina’s golden eyes desperately. “Tell them! I’m not insane! Please!”
    “Who are you talking to, Celina?” the police officer’s voice inquired softly.
    My mouth opened and closed helplessly, trying to form words from my jumbled thoughts. “Wha–” I stammered. “What do you mean? She– She’s right there!” I gestured over to Irina angrily and desperately. “She’s right there!”
    The principal looked at the police officer sadly and nodded once. The officer advanced on me and I backed away a step. “No! You can’t take me!”
    I turned around to run away and was tackled to the ground in an instant, immediately feeling a sting in the side of my neck. He stabbed a needle in me!
    “No! No! No… No…” My vision began to flash from the floor to black and back again before, finally, the darkness took over, and I fell into the comforting embrace of slumber.

                *            *            *

    “Patient G143, it’s time for your medicine.” I held the shot in my right hand as I double-checked the clipboard in my left hand, making sure that I was doing everything right. It was my first week at this job since I was promoted, and I couldn’t help but double-check every single one of my actions.
    I stopped in front of the door labeled “G143” and peeped through the small window, peering inside at the patient. She was sitting in the padded corner with a straight jacket restraining her from doing anything. Her once beautiful black hair was now greasy and tangled, no longer holding its resilient beauty. Dull brown eyes looked around the room crazily, returning to the same spot in the room every time.
    “Irina, I told you. The boy made me do it.”
    I shook my head in sympathy and entered the room. The patient paid absolutely no mind to me as I gave her her shot and left the room, checking her off of my list. I locked the door to the padded room and cast one last look at Celina.
    “It must be a horrible experience to be insane.”