Don't You See I'm Broken?

Damn it. I wiped the blood off my hands and blade as the doctor walks into my room. My parents have gotten so worried about me but I don't even care. I'm just 16, they can't prove I'm mental. Yet...
"Why don't you just give me the box cutter? No need to hurt yourself anymore..." he said in an overly calm voice. I hate calm people. They just kinda flip something off. My hands don't move on my accord, it's like I'm watching from a different person's eyes. I spin around and start stabbing the doctor. My mother's face is covered in his blood. She's standing just a bit too close.
She's next, then my dad. I leave my little brother to run far away from here, and he does so, screaming. The last thing I remember is the police men shooting something that stuck me like I needle.

Notes

Sorry it's so short, it'll get longer I promise.