The tall one walks back and forth, back and forth, scrutinising. Always scrutinising. Doesn’t she have anything better to do? Of course not, this is her job. To look, to read people’s minds like a book. People aren’t books, but that doesn’t matter to her.
Back and forth, back and forth. Click Clack, click clack, go her heels. How can someone like her wear heels? Someone so devoid of emotion, someone so...bland.
The second house always said “Don’t judge people.” They were religious, but they weren’t very good Christians. Christians are supposed to help people, aren’t they? See the problem, pray a bit, fix the problem. They preferred to pretend the problem didn’t exist.
How could they do that? How could they pretend the problem didn’t exist? I was the problem. They had taken me in, didn’t they get that the reason I needed to be taken in in the first place was because there was a problem?
Click Clack, click clack. I wish she’d stop walking. She’s giving me a headache.
The second house wasn’t that bad, actually. Apart from making me go to church, they tried their best to take care of me. They didn’t understand, that was all. I should give them more credit, I know. But I can’t help it.
The first house was far worse anyway.
The first house was actually the polar opposite of the second. They knew that I was a problem, instantly. Part of the agreement was that I had to go to once a week counselling sessions with the nearest psychotherapist. They sent me EVERY DAY. And they locked me in my room. Which was actually an attic.
They probably caused me more damage then actually helped me.
Clack Click, clack click. Did she switch legs? Change her stride? Or maybe I’m making it up. Maybe this time, they’ll realise that I’m insane.
Am I? Could be. How do you spot an insane person? I’m not sure. I’ve never met one.
I never gave the third house a chance. I actually never made it to the front door. They took me out of the car, and I ran. Of course, they caught me fairly quickly, but at least I tried.
And now I’m here. Where is here? I don’t know. I’ve never been here before. Never in this room, with this tall lady, and....
The other people. I’d not noticed them before. Now I see...there’s three others. I wonder if we’re all a problem...
That’s the thing. We could all be classed as problems, but then again, nobody’s perfect.
If nobody’s perfect, why is everyone looking for perfection?
What is it with humans and their constant searching for rare things? They’ll never find what they’re looking for. Nothing is perfect.
I don’t care though. I don’t care if I’m “imperfect”.
I just wish that lady would stop walking.
Click Clack, clack click.
I’m going to pull my hair out with frustration. Then maybe they’ll realise I’m insane.