This afternoon, Lindi, my supervisor, and I compared notes on Fynk. We put together the exaggerations, inconsistencies, and outright lies; the daily weeping meltdowns; the self-pity and the boasting; and her skewed, paranoid view of the way people treat her. The picture that emerged was of a fragile girl with a troubled, unstable psyche. We realized that Fynk believes all the lies she tells, and we don't know what she'll do when confronted by the truth.
The final kink in this twisted narrative is that Fynk is dating Lindi's brother. He knows there's something wrong with her, but he's still completely smitten. He thinks he can help her. Save her.
Lindi wishes she'd never introduced Fynk to her brother, but she didn't know Fynk was a liar and a psycho. Our supervisors wish they had seen what was happening sooner, so that they might have been able to prevent some of this grief.
And me? I've known Fynk as long as anyone in the lab. We were hired on the same day, went through training together, and sat next to each other at the bench. Within a day, I had already begun to suspect most of the things she told me were less than accurate. I watched her flirt with Dave, and I watched her flirt with Lindi's brother. I was there every time Fynk cried and threatened to quit because she'd made an insignificant mistake. I heard her blame those mistakes on everyone around her. I could have warned Lindi, Lindi's brother, and both of our supervisors. But I'd been angry, and had wanted nothing more to do with Fynk, Lindi, or any of them.
Why are we all like this? Is it even possible to do good in this world? Or do we just aim our cars blindly at the nearest cliff and floor the accelerator, all the time insisting "I don't need a map. I know exactly where I am."