Now, what most people don't understand is that not all psychopaths are serial killers. They are known for abusing animals as kids and the opposite sex as teenagers and adults. They pray on the weak and naïve. They are sadists to a point. Many are atheists or agnostics. They believe God and good and evil were invented. They are known for being racist or sexist. Besides this, they are known for how smart they are. Some are known for becoming lawyers, doctors, or politicians. They serve a purpose in the society they hate. Many victims of psychopaths are basically mentally and emotionally abused. Many of their victims never forgive and the psychopaths will never change.587Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaMAXzLf7OB
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When Tracey and Richy grew up, it was obvious to most people around them that they were very different. Tracey got by hanging out with a group of male bullies who would beat others up for the fun of it, using her girlish charms, then she'd join a clique of girls known for spreading rumors during her teenage years. There was no one she liked to pick on more than her older brother.
To most people, Richy was a kindhearted boy who loved animals and studying. He wasn't popular like his sister, but he had his friends, and even a girlfriend or two. Most people liked him.
What all people, except Richard Sr., seemed to think, was that his boy was a neurotypical, or normal person, and his daughter a psychopath. Even though both siblings believed this, too. For a time.
"There must be a way that psychopaths can love others." Richy told his father. (He had shoulder length black hair and brown eyes that were almost black, by the way. His father's hair and eyes were just as black, but trim as an officer in the military. His jawline further copied this image.)
Richy was the only one Richard Sr. was completely straight with.
"No. A psychopath can't love anyone but himself. He always puts himself first."
"I think you're wrong. Not about the putting self first thing, but there's so many ways to prove you love someone. You don't have to do anything extreme like saving a life. You don't even have to bend over backwards. You just need to be nice and always be there for them."
"Pfft. 'Nice'."
"Does that mean you don't love Mom?"
"Don't tell her, or I'll disown you... But, no. Not even an ounce! I just got married to help further my political career. Voters love a married man with kids."
"Does that mean you don't love I or Trace?"
"Of course I don't, if you mean I would die for you. Well... MAYBE I would die for you if you were to carry on my blood."
"You sound like you're a vampire-your blood thing. Don't you mean your legacy?"
"My legacy IS my blood. In any case, as long as I live, you can come to me with your petty little problems as long as they aren't anything too stupid. Then you're on your own."
"Well, Dad. I loved our talk. I think I WILL fall in love one day."
"Good luck with that."
As for Tracey, she believed she was a psychopath just like all the testing-both the first test and the more she had-told her. She believed she never cared about anyone but herself, that her love for her family was completely territorial, and that she would never fall in love. But...
...Sometimes she would go to the edge of town, stand on the top of the hill, and hold out her arms. Sometimes she would pretend someone else was holding her arms out wide with their own. An equal. Someone just like her.
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Tracey Raddley was walking home one day with two of her gal pals.
"Do you guys think I'd make a good actress?"
"Of course you would! You're great in Drama Club!" said a bleach blonde.
"I can't even tell the difference between when you're acting and when you're not!" said a brunette.
When they bumped into a small child, a homeless girl, the three teenage girls' reactions, save for Tracey's reaction, were less than nice.
"Ew. Look at her!" the bleach blonde dummy said.
"Yeah, she totally looks like she's from a boy's sweat locker." agreed the brunette, but equally stupid girl.
(Honestly, Tracey had asked her father to allow her to be homeschooled, but he said something about making sure she came out "normal". Not the same as everyone else, but normal.)
"Poor thing," she began in a mocking voice. (She also had blonde hair and green eyes in case you were wondering, just like her mother, only Tracey wore pigtails. Her mother had her's up in a bun.) "I bet you're cold and hungry, aren't you?"
The girl seemed too young to understand she wasn't being taken too seriously.
"Yeah. I am. Can I have some change, please?"
"Nope."
"Nevermind..."
The girl got up and started to walk away. Tracey grabbed her hand.
"I can pay for your meal."
"You'd do that?!"
"Yep."
Tracey's friends were confused, but followed. They walked into a fast-food place.
"I always feel guilty about eating here. Innocent animals getting slaughtered for consumerism." said the girl, who seemed brighter than someone who went to school.
"This is a vegetarian place."
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah. Lot's of vitamins in the food, too."
They all sat down to eat. All except for Tracey who stared at the homeless girl as they ate.
"Okay. What's the catch?" asked the homeless girl.
"Yeah. I thought we were gonna pick on her." said the blondie.
Tracey flashed her the "look". Then she turned to the homeless girl.
"You just ate something cooked in partially hydrogenated oils."
The girl looked at her veggie burger. Then she kept on eating. The brunette spat her's out.
"Is this poison?!"
"No, you dumb ass. It's the opposite of brain food. ...Which I think you need more of. Any more of the opposite and you'd hit your head because you'd forget to how to open a door."
"It doesn't matter to me as long as I get to eat," said the homeless girl after she had quickly finished her food. "I'm glad that someone like you came, even if you only wanted to make fun of me. May God bless you. I'll keep you in my prayers."
"Hey!" Tracey called back at the girl. "You're supposed to be mad!"
"Now why did you let us eat the this slop?" asked the fake-blonde.
"Not my fault. You should've known not to eat anything after I sat down with an empty plate."
"I probably ruined my figure. Thanks a lot."
"Your welcome." Tracey smiled insincerely.
Then she got up and left, tired of them both.
Tracey actually thought that she had done a bad thing. But, as actresses go, she was a good one. She even fooled herself.
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Her brother was busy volunteering at the kennel. He had just finished hosing down the animals (yes, with a hose) in their cramped cages. There was so little room in each cage that a lot of the dogs couldn't turn around and scratch themselves. Today was the day both Richy's favorite and most hated dog would be killed. Euthanized. Executed. His favorite was a pit bull who was simply due because his time had run out. The other dog? The beagle? He had anger issues and had attacked a woman and her baby for no reason. They had gotten away safely, but the beagle had gotten a death sentence. Richy grimaced at the beagle. His owners hadn't even hit him or taken him to a fighting ring. Some dogs were just mangy.
As Richy dragged the beagle to the euthanization room, he was fighting all the way. At first, the dog was being it's vicious self, barking and trying to bite him. Then the smell of death reached him and he started whining a hurt whine. He tried pulling on the leash with his teeth. When they got there, Richy would normally take sadistic pleasure in the animal's gasping for breath and final death. But that didn't happen. The dog finally broke free of the leash and ran out the door. He didn't bother chasing after him. Either way, he was finally free of him.587Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡy3mAxOHyHL
"Good riddance!"587Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5BVTc8CesT
The killings never bothered him, it just bothered him that it DIDN'T bother him. He didn't want to feel like that. In some ways, he was glad that he could miss the other animals. To be saddened by their deaths. It made him feel more normal. Human. Even though he was already human.587Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZCENinUl39
Before clocking out for the night, he brought Splotch home with him. She was the pit bull due for death. She was named after her near-white pelt with a small, brown dot on her upper snout. She was quite affectionate, but old enough not to be hyper. Richy knew he'd have to hide her from his father and mother, but maybe he could make a difference deal with his sister.587Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7nuyFH4siE
