The shadows of creatures that weren't really there raced on the walls, my mind's creation. I shrank back into the corner on my bed, breathing rapidly, scared by nothing. I hugged my knees so tightly, the scabs on my arms broke open and blood started to run down my arms, soaking my hoodie. I began to cry, small, timid tears at first, then large, heavy salty tears were streaming down my face. I then started to laugh, reveling in my madness. I knew I was insane, and Jane, the voice in the back of my head, wouldn't let me forget that.
"Why don't you just kill her." Jane whispered, "That would solve a lot of problems."
"Not this one, " I answered, even though to other people, it was just a crazy, under-rested girl talking to herself. Jane was a creation I thought up at thirteen to cope with life, someone I could go to. She was almost a mirror image of me now, crazy, bloodthirsty...
I sat up, pulling myself off of the bed, and walked limply to the mirror. I was a sight, my long black hair was disheveled around my blue eyes, which had heavy black make-up and circles under them. I pulled on a pair of jeans and a blue sweatshirt, and walked out onto the streets of New York.