[MuseSick]

Annabelle had been encased in this building for the past two years, meanwhile most patients, died, killed themselves off, or ended up being let go because they were 'cured'. She'd been brought here two years ago for being a Pathological Liar, but who wouldn't be. Annabelle grew up in a household with a Mum who did prostitution, and snorted lines of coke when she wasn't on the job, and for all Snow (Annabelle) knew, she probably did it there too. She had a brother who didn't come home most nights, and when he did, he was drunk, and a father. Her father was unlucky. Many-a-time he'd tried to take Annabelle away from it all, but after her mother came home one night, to her and her Dad escaping through the back window. Her Mum had, had enough. Her Mum wasn't merciful. Annabelle could never remember a time where she had been, the loving, caring mother she dreamed of. She'd been fortunate enough to grow up being like her Dad, but everyone had their breaking point. One night, the night her father had been shot in the temple, his blood, splattered all over her face, she cracked.

It wasn't something she could live with comfortably. She went through these stages, she was into razor blades, then alcohol just like her brother, but finally she got into her mother's stash, by the time they'd found her, she'd snorted a countless amount of lines, and had blacked out on the floor. But who were they to say she was crazy? Laying on that floor drugged up past her ears. Who was to say that it wasn't okay for her to get down on herself, to never ever be able to wash away the feeling on that warm gooey red liquid against the side of her face.

So, she'd started off in the asylum for rehab, on a completely different section, and as time progressed people saw through her story. The wards all knew her background story, every single one of them. Every time she met someone new, she didn't mention the drugs, or the alcohol, the death. Nothing. She had her own merry little fairy tale. It was all she'd ever wanted, to have a perfect life with a perfect family. She wanted to live out the life she dreamed of, and what better way than with people who didn't know a thing about her. She spoke of the mother who was caring and love her, stayed home with her children. The father who worked all day and came home to read the paper, and the brother who taught her how to play baseball in the backyard. She spoke of them, magnificently. She lied.

So she earned her second year in the ward, for being a Pathological Liar. Here she sat, on the couch, her feet dangled over the edge as she folded her hands behind her head. It was a wonderful day, in her castle of insanity. She smirked, she could hear the wards clunky shoes tapping down the hall as they dragged in another peasant in her wonderful kingdom. Maybe this one would be worthy of being a night. Annabelle jumped to her feet, swinging around her ward with a smile she wrapped her arms around him playfully. "Devin, Devin, Devin! Who's the new boy!" she said with a grin. Her ward just smiled, shaking his head with a shrug. He didn't know the new one yet anyways so he couldn't quite tell her.

Annabelle sighed, her lips pushing together in a pout as she shook her head, waltzing off, her arms held away from her body as she spun in circles. One of her many lies- was that she was originally a ballerina. She smirked as the wards let the boy go, catching the door before it closed she leaned in the frame. "Hello, and welcome to my kingdom!" she said as she threw her arm in the air, motioning around in a circle, to show this was her domain. "What's your name?" she asked as she skipped closer to him, around him. She had a way of dancing her way around people. Literally.