See Jack Run
Chapter 1
"Jaqueline Mariel Way." The pyscologist said slowly as he walked in. He grimaced as he looked at the file on his desk,
JAQUELINE MARIEL WAY
Case in file: Abused by older brother
Antisocial
Does not view herself as a victim, believes that she deserved the abuse
Shows symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder
He looked at the girl hunced up, almost like a harp, on the chair in front of his desk. He smiled tightly, and silently lead her into the room where he talked to all his patients.
"Please get comfortable, Jaqueline."
"Jack."
"Pardon?"
"Please call me Jack."
He nodded. Domestic abuse was always tough, and this case didn't look very hopeful. But he had to start somewhere.
"So, Jack, tell me a little about your life."
Her eyes darted to the floor. Tracing the pattern on the couch where she sat, she took a deep breath. Stalling.
"My parents are divorced," she started, "and my oldest brother, Gerard is in college. My older brother, Mikey, was living me and my mom. We never saw our dad.
"We lived in a really small house, but it was nice. Mikey and I shared a room. When we were little, it wasn't a problem."
"How old is your brother?" The pyscologist interrupted.
"Gerard is twenty, Mikey is seventeen."
"And you?"
"Fourteen."
"Thank you. Please continue."
"Gerard was really nice to me, but we didn't talk that much. By the time I was really able to have a good conversation, he was off in his own life. I guess you get that with a six year difference. Mikey was much more involved with me. We used to play games where I would be the bad guy and he would be the good guy. We were little kids then, and to a little kid, the good guy always wins. So whenever we would play, Mikey would always win. He would hit me really hard, but I thought that it was because I was the bad guy. I was the bad guy."
The pyscologist remembered the file.
"He would always pull my hair and hit me really hard, but when I started crying, the game was over. He'd hug me and tell me that he loved me."
"So there were boundaries."
"In the early years."
"Interesting."
"Can I ask you a question?"
"You just did."
Jack's face flickered with a half smile that vanished as quickly as it had come. "Are you talking to me because you actually, or because it's your job?"
At that moment, the pyscologist this would be like no other case he had ever had.
JAQUELINE MARIEL WAY
Case in file: Abused by older brother
Antisocial
Does not view herself as a victim, believes that she deserved the abuse
Shows symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder
He looked at the girl hunced up, almost like a harp, on the chair in front of his desk. He smiled tightly, and silently lead her into the room where he talked to all his patients.
"Please get comfortable, Jaqueline."
"Jack."
"Pardon?"
"Please call me Jack."
He nodded. Domestic abuse was always tough, and this case didn't look very hopeful. But he had to start somewhere.
"So, Jack, tell me a little about your life."
Her eyes darted to the floor. Tracing the pattern on the couch where she sat, she took a deep breath. Stalling.
"My parents are divorced," she started, "and my oldest brother, Gerard is in college. My older brother, Mikey, was living me and my mom. We never saw our dad.
"We lived in a really small house, but it was nice. Mikey and I shared a room. When we were little, it wasn't a problem."
"How old is your brother?" The pyscologist interrupted.
"Gerard is twenty, Mikey is seventeen."
"And you?"
"Fourteen."
"Thank you. Please continue."
"Gerard was really nice to me, but we didn't talk that much. By the time I was really able to have a good conversation, he was off in his own life. I guess you get that with a six year difference. Mikey was much more involved with me. We used to play games where I would be the bad guy and he would be the good guy. We were little kids then, and to a little kid, the good guy always wins. So whenever we would play, Mikey would always win. He would hit me really hard, but I thought that it was because I was the bad guy. I was the bad guy."
The pyscologist remembered the file.
"He would always pull my hair and hit me really hard, but when I started crying, the game was over. He'd hug me and tell me that he loved me."
"So there were boundaries."
"In the early years."
"Interesting."
"Can I ask you a question?"
"You just did."
Jack's face flickered with a half smile that vanished as quickly as it had come. "Are you talking to me because you actually, or because it's your job?"
At that moment, the pyscologist this would be like no other case he had ever had.