I'm not crazy.
I'm a genius.
I used to be a star student at school. I've already skipped two grades.
But even then I was different.
I've been diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome. I was always a social outcast but that never really bothered me.
Until I got sent here.
In my head I speak loudly, confidently. I solve advanced mathematical formulas and equations.
Out of my head I am a shy girl who hasn't spoken for months.
No one really knows what is wrong with me.
Not that they haven't asked me countless times.
I only shake my head and look at my hands until they give up and leave.
They've decided I'm probably depressed.
"She's depressed, we think," They say. "Or possibly suicidal. And there's always the option of being scarred enotionally..."
They might be right.
But I know why I won't speak.
I'm broken.
At school bullied by everyone. Jeered at, laughed, taunted. At home ignored by my dad, hated by my stepmother and teased by my stepbrothers.
I snapped.
Broke.
Now I'm an empty shell, a hollow remain of what once was a genius.
But I'm not crazy.
I think.
