I was always a troublesome boy; my mother would say when she walked me to my counseling session at the local doctor's office in our small town. I couldn't say I blamed her for taking me there. I was a problem child. I was always breaking things in our house, always throwing 'tantrums'.

Due to my troublesome nature and my natural boyish urges I was forced into counseling. My mother wouldn't say therapy.

"It's okay, Honey," she said one day on the way to the session, trying to comfort me, though I needed no comforting. "I understand what you're going through."

I knew she was just saying that; she was just trying to get me to go with the flow and fit in. One time she even tried to dye my hair in my sleep. She didn't buy me contacts, though she might've if my circumstances were different.

I was albino. My hair was white as snow, but luckily I didn't stick out too much with my blue eyes. That wasn't why I was in this situation.

I had a problem; that I knew. My mother didn't exactly understand what kind of problem it was. My testosterone was not being 'overly produced' as she had put it. I'd had the same problem since I was five.

She wasn't told what the issue really was. I could never tell her about it, or she would send me off to some crazy convention so she could bring home more guys and not be called an 'irresponsible parent'. Heck, for all they would know she wasn't a parent at all!

My dad isn't dead, but my mom left him for someone 'better'. Daddy-O was so ticked off at Mommy-Dearest that he just let her go. After all, a cheat is a cheat. He totally forgot about me, or rather he wanted to erase us entirely. So, I was out of the picture for him, and he wasn't complaining about it.

She's just waiting for them to say I'm crazy; waiting for them to diagnose me with some major neurotic issue so she can ship me off to some insane asylum. She acts like she cares, but I know she doesn't. I've heard her conversations.

I really haven't, but some other girl has. She lives on me, and she's the cause for my issues. She's my half-sister on my dad's side, but she died three years ago when she was fourteen. She's my poltergeist.