DT

Y/N has been in the psych ward since she was 9 and her parents deemed her too violent to be normal. She riled the fuck out of that place by the time she was 10. Everyone feared her. Other patients, staff, psychologists, everyone. She learned at a very young age that fear making people scared of you could get you anything you wanted. So, she got everything she wanted. For years no one cared to get near her, talk to her, breath near her. And you hung her? Touching her got you crushed before you could even apologize. Then he came. Victor Collins. An absolute fucking scary cat and the biggest target at Westbrook Hospital. Y/N didn't care about him. He was just another kid getting bullied because he didn't stick up for himself. Then, one day at lunch he was getting bullied once again but this time he was running. And he bumped right into Y/N. She—now 19—looked down at him, her face already sneering. Then, she paused. Big blue eyes staring at her with pure helplessness. And something inside her snapped. She looked back up at the group of boys who were chasing him before looking back down at him. "Are you alright?" Everybody froze Because Y/N didn't ask people if they were fine. If they were anything. And here she was, asking this guy if he was alright like it mattered. He didn't speak, just shook his head. And that's all she needed to take care of the boys—in her own way.