Untreated B

Uploader's note: This story was still on the Creepypasta wiki when it was added here.

By: Bethany M.

Based true events from high school.

B was just a 16 year old girl when she noticed things beginning to change. She was about 5'7", black hair, dark brown eyes, mixed skin tone due to her mixed parents. She was a mixed kid. She told her mom she might be bipolar. Her mother didn't believe her. Only being a sophomore, she blew it off as hormones and the fact she was a teenager but something never felt quite right. She wasn't the smartest student but she did well enough to pass and to be able to do what she did best. She was a student athlete, a good one but always too modest to say so. She kept on to the next year as a junior and noticed she was different. Always back and forth in caliber hard to understand. She wasn't an open book but she liked being that way. Didn't like people prying in her life or when she was going through a rough time. Always bottled her feelings to the point she'd explode in a fit of rage or self harm. Things in school weren't out of the ordinary until February. It was something she saw coming but never expected. She had a friend who had severe depression due to bullying. Her friend was taken out the school and put in another, one that's known for how bad bullying can get. Her friend committed suicide. At first B didn't know how to react; she knew to cry, she knew to shake out of sorrow but it didn't happen so she forced herself. This was her friend who she related to, someone who understood her and then she was gone. She forced her tears until they felt real. The next day at school she avoided anyone and everyone. It didn't matter if you were her friend, she didn't talk to you. The only way she could let out steam was to run. It didn't help because her friends bully was in her class and she felt the need to hurt him, make him feel what she felt. She knew that would result in not running in track meets, getting expelled or even arrested. She didn't want to risk it so she stayed in her seat angry. Angry to the point her pot was boiling over but not doing anything about it. She had never felt an anger so strong, so persistent, and it didn't die. She long forgot about her anger and had to focus on winning meets. She had to stay busy, keep the thoughts out. She actually did her homework and studied, anything to push back the coping process. She didn't want it to be real, She didn't want to believe her friend was dead. Summer going into senior year hit and she was more than ready to be done with school but, she was alone now. She didn't have the routine to keep her busy and she felt all the things she kept pushing back. The loss, the hurt, the ache in her chest, the guilt, the grief of her dead friend. She blamed herself and hated herself for not doing more. She knew her friend was in pain but didn't understand in how much pain. She did what a lot of people did: she drank.

She drank her self to sleep nearly everyday in June, the summer of 2017. She never felt a loss like this. She spent her nights trying to forget, to take the edge off, to feel numb. She wasn't suppose to lose anyone at the age of 17, at least no one her age. She thought she was the worst friend in the world and held a grudge to herself. She relapsed on self harm knowing that drinking wasn't enough. Something made her stop all of this though. She remembered her talents in running and wanted to insure she would go out of her last track season with a bang. She stopped drinking, stopped cutting and hit the track. She worked hard and really thought she could get pass this loss. She trained every morning until the day of her wisdom teeth surgery. She already knew her high school track season was secure, she already knew she was set. As everyone knows, she was given a bottle of pain killers for her teeth. She didn't read the label as she popped two pills in her mouth. It gave her a high she never knew she could feel. She felt the escape of reality hit her as she smiled. This was the buzz the was missing. She missed it a little way too much to the point she purposely waited for her teeth to heal to use it for recreational reasons. Feeling the sense of not feeling was the best thing since sliced bread. She'd take more than 4 pills knowing they were each 600 Mg. Getting high every night to distract from the quiet of the night. She wanted to run from the thoughts that seeped in when she wasn't busy. She hated how they tortured her but she couldn't run for they were her thoughts. They only way to shut them out was to get high. She loved it but knew it would effect her track career so, she stopped on the day of her 18th birthday on December 15th. She got sick due to withdraws but it was worth it because she became the best athlete she could ever be in high school. She was the best in her event and the best at meets. She was even getting recognized for scholarships. She was champ, she was feared, she was the best. She stayed away from drugs and alcohol knowing she'll get lost and over do it. She was focused, she had goals and she reached them through hard work and perseverance.

Her season ended one meet shy of state but she didn't complain for she got everything she wanted all season. Why ruin it now? She hurt her ankle and ran on it. She didn't care, she was determined to finish with a bang forever leaving a good impression on all her coaches.

She graduated but wasn't applied to a school anywhere for that wasn't in her plan. She wasn't good with sudden change. Her gift was a cruise. She had fun meeting new people she knew she'd never see again but she had a thing for adventure and reckless behavior. She met a boy and got attached, she blamed it on how good they clicked. She relapsed on drinking feeling the buzz of being numb. To let go and be free of everything that weighed her down.To not care the way she would. To not feel anything due to the fact she never knew how to feel like a normal person. When she got back from the cruise she got back to her life but this time there was no high school, it was the real world now. She didn't like the though of having to grow up so she turned to the pills again. This time her problems were showing. She was back and forth and back and forth and intrusive thoughts began to fill her head. She didn't want to let go of her childhood. She began to take benadryl. Only starting at 6 pills, she slowly made her way up to taking 25 pills in one sitting. She got high everyday in July and half of August. Her summer went by and she has no memory of it. At this point her parents knew that all the times she said she had a problem, they finally saw it. Thinking it was just depression, they took her in to a psychologist. To their dismay, she was told she had bipolar type 2 rapid cycle. Getting on meds, she started to feel better for the fall semester but then she felt her emotions go flat. It was as though they didn't exist anymore, all but one. Anger. Her anger turned into rage. It was uncontrollable. Punching walls. door, mirrors, self harm, breaking dishes, breaking straighteners, tearing books in half. She was a mess but didn't understand the danger she was in. She eventually stopped when she fell into the depression but the thoughts didn't stop their. Hurting herself again and again and again, she decided she didn't want to be the one to hurt herself anymore. She made the irrational decision to get a tattoo but was disappointed when the pain on her ribs didn't match the pain on her wrist.

New years hit. I should've been the reset button, it should've been a fresh start but, it wasn't. She began to drink again for things only got worse. She was off her meds for she wasn't responsible and didn't make appointments to her psychiatrist or psychologist. Always miserable or angry. Her thoughts were no longer to hurt her but the need to hurt others. It scared her. She was off her meds cold turkey and had to learn how to use her feelings all over again. She cried over everything and laughed at everything. She genuinely felt her feelings but, they hit harder now that she was untreated. She would get attacked by a dark anger she was afraid of at first but soon fell in love with. Her thoughts changed quickly to imagining brutally murdering someone. She didn't have a motive, just an undying urge. She isolated herself afraid to hurt her family but it was too much. She'd punch walls and doors but it wasn't enough. She wanted to kill someone. She wanted to get rid of the undying urge to see blood. A real blood lust. Her dad and psychologist had the thought to put her in a hospital but that drove her mad. She didn't want to be a freak who couldn't control her need to kill.

She knew exercise was a good way to relieve stress so she went on a run in the middle of the night. She didn't sleep much due to the fact she was a nocturnal insomniac. The night was her time to recharge for she is an introvert. The thoughts wouldn't quit. She was afraid to be locked up. She ran for what seemed like mile but it was really only two before she ran home to a quiet house. The urge was stronger than before as she showered and changed into black skinny jeans and her dirty black docs with a blue and orange stripped shirt she wore all the time. She thought if she can't run it out, she'll go for a drive. Getting ready, she headed to the garage to get ready to leave but her brother was down stairs.

"You're still up." She was shocked to see him still awake. Her younger brother Chris was much taller than her being 6 feet at the age of 15.

"Yeah, I don't as much as you do." She simply stated.

"Good for you, stop making it seem like you're a superhuman." Her brother was known to start unnecessary fights. That night wasn't good for him for she was already hell bent on murder.

"I'm just saying, people with mental illnesses don't require a lot of sleep." She was trying so hard to stay calm but he knew how to get under her skin. He wasn't aware of her urges and she didn't tell him for a reason.

"Well you don't need to because I don't care." Her face heated up and the whites of her eyes turning red of how angry he had gotten her. This was the true definition of snapping. She looked to the crow bar on the tools and picked it along with machete. She ignored all sanity left and picked up the machete and in one swift blow, she struck him in the back. Shock filled his face as she felt the rush, to see the blood, to him fall. She felt the rush of actually doing it. She brought it down again but stabbing him. A smile took over her face as his screams filled her ears. She was actually fulfilling her deep, dark, desires. Of course her family ran into the garage appalled at the sight of her now mutilated brother. She enjoyed the feeling of hurting. She welcomed those dark thoughts as she took the keys and got in the car. She drove away into the night with her brothers blood on her hands. She still drives around looking for the weak, vulnerable, or ignorant people that remind her of her family. Her sports have changed but she always runs towards her prize. Instead of a medal, it's fear.