Novel & Cerita Am I Psychopath

My voice broke as I suddenly thought of the possibility that I might be befriending one. Her emerald eyes looked straight into mine as she spoke in a very different manner. “I am not a psychopath, Matthew. I prefer to call my condition— Antisocial Personality Disorder. Do your research to have a better understanding. I have nothing more to explain.” Then she walked away after leaving the daggers in my hand.

Alissa was caught off guard with his question, "I don't understand." "Why are you doing this to me?" "Doing what Aron? I am lost." "You know what I am talking about." "I really don't." "I want you, Alissa." Alissa gulped at his words, "I want you so much that it drives me crazy to think that you think of other guys when I'm there." "What other guys?" "Brandon. I don't want you to look at him, but to look at me alone and no-one else." "I don't know if I can do that Aron."

Too kind. Not like them. Not like anyone. At the asylum, they labeled me—Antisocial Personality Disorder. Obsessive. Sadistic. I know what I am. I know my mind isn’t right. I talk to myself more than I talk to people. And sometimes... I fantasize about blood. But this time, I don’t want blood. I want her touch. I want her warmth. Her kindness. I want her to treat me like I matter like I’m not just a fucked-up product

But after Papa, after tonight, I don’t have the strength. His footsteps echo as he approaches, each click of his shoes deliberate. He pulls the gun again, the barrel gleaming as he taps it lightly against my forehead. My jaw tightens. “Oh, you like this, don’t you?” My voice cuts low, sharp. “Me on my knees. You’re sick. Twisted.” His lips curve faintly, not quite a smile. “You think I’m crazy.” “No.” My eyes lock on his, unflinching. “I think you’re a psychopath.”

Squeezing my eyes shut briefly, another tear escaped. They stood there trying to fix it, but nothing. The man beside me tsked, his eyes on his watch, before they dragged up to meet mine, and I froze. His eyes had no form of life in them, almost as though they belonged to a corpse. Who hurt him? Who made him this way? I wondered. Have you ever heard of psychopaths? Isabella, some people don't need someone to hurt them or get evil. Some were born evil, just like him.

Humored him, and he found me insane but after finding out about the deaths he had caused that night he found me, I know there is no limit for that man nor does he understand what that word means. There is not much to go on about him but I had spent weeks learning about the people he had killed, how merciless he was. He was probably an undiagnosed psychopath with his obsession of causing chaos no matter where he went and my behavior of doing the same must be familiar to him so he will see me as a kindred soul. He has to. Fucking has to.

"You know, psychologists often say that the difference between psychopathy and sociopathy is at the beginning. I don't think I was born that way, but something back there forged my path and I had no way to escape. I don't blame my parents for giving up on me, although they never really tried to understand me. It was hard, you know. I saw the world differently than other people, I always wanted more compared to others and it never felt like enough." "Don't blame others for your mistakes. Your brother has dedicated his life to taking care of you. Alice says sharply, and I'm the one who gives her a cross look. Like, doesn't she see that we're dealing with an unhinged lunatic and we need to stay

“The only thing that man loves more than himself is this pack and the power. He woudnt let her destroy that.” “Maybe she’ll kill him after he does what she wants.” I muttered, my mind completely blank. This is what happens when you’re dealing with a psychopath. I can’t believe I ever thought I was anything like her. I’m not a saint. But I’m definitely not a psychotic killer like her either.

But I braced myself. “We had a psych evaluation done,” Ian went on, his voice beginning to fray around the edges. “Amber, he has… Severe Complex PTSD. Borderline personality disorder. Dissociative disorders. Depression. A string of other issues. They said it’s some of the worst they’ve seen. Like… like someone broke him over and over again and never let him heal.” I couldn’t speak. My throat constricted with tears, my vision blurred.

Psycho..He's a psycho. A real psycho indeed. I clenched my fist. "You, should be dead." I whispered. "Everyone tells me that." He looked at me, grinning from ear to ear. I pointed the gun in front of me aiming right at his heart. "Now i don't think you should be pointing the gun at me right now." "Why shouldn't I? You're a psychopath. You are a danger to everyone in Mexico. Who knows who your next target is, how many people's lives you'll endanger next and how many victims will die because of your sick brain. " I scowled.