The Stairs To A Psychopaths Inner Mind.

The girl is standing at the top of the stairs, shameless, cold. She seems to be bored with the bleeding boy below, and I stand there in disbelief. She turns to me, her face shifting eerily to concern. Not even a psychopath could in such speed. "Are you okay?" "..yeah." "Good.. good.." she's trailed off the path of her voice, and I feel her grab my hand. My breath hitches, a lump in m throat I hadn't even known existed. "I want you to do something for me." Her hair, smelling of lilac, is something I feel distracted by. "Well?" I stare at her, my eyes flushing to the weakening boy below the steps. "Hey," my eyes flash back to her. "Ignore him. Focus on me." I nod. She grabs my wrist, dragging me further up the staircase.. but it's so gentle, so conscious of an effort. A baby bird, protected by it's mother; rather than the fox attacking the bird, it's natural prey. The doors of the roof open, she lets them swing shut while her hand releases my wrist. She walks to the edge of the roof, calmly sitting on it. "Come, sit with me." Her voice is cheerful, nothing compared to the whirlwind her tone was through previously. I do as told, and I sit beside her. As she speaks to me for what feels like hours, her facial expressions remain calm, however her intentions remain malicious, everlasting. "Do you trust me?" She doesn't look at me, she stares down, two stories below us whilst her feet swing back and forth, back and forth, back and forth they go. "No." My palms are sweating, my body is trembling. I feel as if my head will explode at any moment, or she'll rip it off for me. Her smile fades, back and forth her feet no more. "Turn around." I do as told. I swing myself around, the wind I feel isn't from the spin, it's beside me. And soon is followed by a quick splat. I won't look, I can't. For precaution to resist the temptation, I bury my face into my hands and cross my legs. Enough blood shed, today. We continue tomorrow.