I'm writing this chapter on my new laptop that I got for my 15th birthday. I'm still getting use to it so I'll probably make some mistakes. I am so so so so so so sorry that this took so long. I've had a lot of homework lately.
"Amy, would you please look up." Her sweet, high voice disrupted my thoughts once again. I let out a long exasperated sigh and tilted my head up. The woman in front of me smiled and I tried not to sneer at her. Her bright pink contacts were shining through her glasses. Her face was flawless and her smile was picture perfect. Her light blond curls were tied into a lose bun. She was basically a Barbie doll dressed as a therapist.
I looked at her blankly. "Yes, Miss Bartel." I muttered.
Allison Bartel was living proof that you can look like Barbie doll and still make it out of collage with a degree. She had been my therapist for four years. Four years I had spent in orphanages and foster homes. Four years since my mother died.
Usually after you call the police you feel a sense of security, like you're a little safer then you were before. It's because when the police come things can only get better, you're alive and in good hands. That wasn't how it was for me. My mother had warned me that the cops only caused trouble in our lives. Things got worse as that day went along. The cops found out that my mother was a killer; a killer they had been looking for. They found out who my father was as well, that didn't help with my reputation. Once people found out my parents were notorious serial killers, even my own friends were calling me a killer. The police weren't really concerned with me, so they stuffed me in an orphanage. I got 3 hours of therapy each week. I never stayed in a foster home for more than 5 months, after all no one wants a killer in their house.
Allison took my hand in hers. I restrained myself from lashing out. "You know Amy; I don't think your killer." She smiled sweetly at me.
Liar. No matter how many times she said that, she would never believe it. Everyone thought I was a killer. They are all ready for me to snap and make my first kill, and I'm pretty sure that one day I will.
The people who work here are either afraid of me or they ignore me. I have made friends here but all of them have been adopted. Most of the children are scared of me. My friends from when I was ten have not contacted me since they found out who I was. Who my parents were.
I cringed at the thought of my parents. I never did find the doll, but I refuse to believe that it was my father; Even if there was another Chucky case right after. I can't believe Jesse and Jade did that. They said that my mother was the one possessing the female doll who was apparently allied with the chucky doll. Now both my parents are killer dolls. Just great.
I wrenched my hand out of hers and turned towards the window. Allison asked a lot more questions, but I didn't even feel like answering with a sarcastic response. She eventually just stopped and got up to leave.
"Well," she breathed. "We will continue this when you're in a better mood." She exited the room leaving me with the deafaning silence.
I could cry my heart out, scream lungs out, and throw everything in sight. No one would even glance in my direction until I kill someone, but I will never give them that satisfaction. I will not prove everyone who said I was a killer right. So I never show them emotion. That would make me weak, and my mother would never want me to be considered weak. I feel so alone, utterly alone. I have no one to hold on to; no one to pull me from the blackness. Man, I'm angsting a lot today.
I heard the soft tap of footsteps outside my room. The door opened. I turned to see the head of the orphanage and the queen of all children's nightmares herself, Mrs. Ellen Johnson.
"I heard you were reluctant to answer Allison's questions." She sneered.
"I was never reluctant. I was perfectly fine with answering with silence." I answered bluntly. I looked toward the window again.
"Amy, you need to open up to her." I didn't answer. "Amy, look at me." She commanded. And she is going to flip out in 5, 4, 3, 2… "I said look at me!" she snapped. Presto, I can tell the future now. I turned my head ever so slowly, just to aggravate her more. I gave her my fakest sweetest smile.
"Yes, Mrs. Johnson?" The tone I used made her sneer. I wonder how far I can push her over the edge.
She stood up from the bed so quickly she stumbled. I held back a smirk. She glared at me.
"Look Amy, as much as I want to get rid of you, you refuse to leave. You never settle down in any of the foster homes we put you in for more than 5 months. No matter how many times I send you away you always come back. Oh, but not this time. Ms. Bartel has agreed to adopt you and take you to L.A. with her. When she decides to get rid of you she'll have to dump you in someone else's orphanage. You're no longer my pain in the ass." She grinned down at me. "Go pack your bags, you leave tomorrow morning." She practically skipped out of the room. It wasn't a pretty sight.
I was utterly shocked. I didn't know whether to jump for joy, or to dread my very existence. Mom and I had always talked about one day moving to somewhere glamorous, like New York or L.A. But I would never want to go with someone like Allison. I thought she hated me anyway. She probably just wants to make my life as miserable as possible. I sighed and hung my head. I wonder what the orphanages in L.A. are like.
I hope that was ok. I know it was kind of short. I will try to update faster.
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