Games Psychos Play

Mike, the guard, wasn’t nearly half as interesting or half as interested as Jake was. He’d sit quietly reading the newspaper, and yes actually reading it, as I picked around for half an hour in my food. He’d escort me around with a light grasp, barley touching my arm, his mouth in a thin line, his eyes piercing and ready for trouble. I think he was a retired cop or maybe a retired soldier, I forget but Mike had a strict no nonsense type of way about him. Considering James was on suspension for another week and half for attacking CJ in the break room, Mike and guard named Elijah, and I were stuck together. CJ was suspended pending further investigation; the police, lawyers, doctors had been in and out of my room for the past few days, asking questions and writing notes. The whole thing was incredibly exhausting and not having Jake there made it even harder.
Dr. Brown increased my sessions to 4 times a week, I guess he figured now I would be more willing to open up and more susceptible to change. I knew he’d soon be disappointed; I hated disappointing people, but it was always them that disappointed themselves by believing in me.
“So how are you doing with everything?” Dr. Brown asked, coffee in hand, eager to get to fixing me.
“As good as I can be, I guess.” I responded, fiddling with a piece of blue lint on my pants. I wondered how it got there, this bright blue piece of lint in a place where almost no color existed.
“How does it feel now that you’ve told everyone what happened? Does it feel any different?” I could hear the optimism in his voice.
“I don’t know, I guess I feel safer.” I said that more for Dr. Brown that for myself. “Now that he’s gone I guess, he can’ hurt me anymore…” In said shrugging a little after.
“What is this unsure feeling I hear from you? Why do you keep saying I guess?” Maybe Dr. Brown would see through my hoax after all.
“You want honesty or do you want to hear what you want hear?” I asked.
“Both.” Dr. Brown said taking a sip of coffee, leaning back in his chair, ready to be appalled I’m sure.
“Well I am sure you would want me to say that I feel safer, that this huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders, and that now I can finally heal, confess, better myself.” I said sarcastically and rolling my eyes.
“And now the truth?” Dr. Brown waited.
“I don’t really feel anything different. I mean sure he’s gone, but I never felt unsafe with him being here. Truth is I never cared if he came into my room and did it again because it wouldn’t matter to me. What was done was done, and that changed me. More so enough to where I didn’t care what happened to me.” I said shifting in my seat uncomfortably. “Now that I’ve told has just added more drama to my life, more attention to me, attention I didn’t want.”
“So you’re saying the bad has outweighed the good in this situation?” Dr. Brown asked in his same calm and simple voice.
“I’m saying the bad will always be bad, there is no good in any of this. There is no fixing it.” I said surprised at how easily I was divulging information.
“What do you keep referring to as it?”
“What?” I asked slightly annoyed.
“You said ‘there is not fixing it’, you wouldn’t care if ‘he came and did it again’, how do you mean?” Why was Dr. Brown asking dumb questions?
“Oh should I be playing stupid too? I didn’t get that memo.” I said highly annoyed.
“I’m not playing stupid.”
“That’s assuring.”
“I need you to say it, Gwen. You need to say it for yourself. Define it, and move on from it.” Dr. Brown was doing his psychiatrist thing again. I rubbed my face erratically and prayed for an earthquake.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Dr. Brown stared at me for a moment, I assumed contemplating whether or not it was worth fighting me on it.
“Okay,” Dr. Brown flipped over a new page in his notebook. “Let’s talk about James.”
“I don’t want to talk about that either.” I said quickly before he could get the question out.
“We have to talk about something.” Dr. Brown sighed heavily, “We can’t just sit here, that wouldn’t be fair to you.” I rolled my eyes and dipped my head back looking for an escape, a distraction, anything to get me out of here. “We either talk about CJ or we talk about James, it’s up to you.” Dr. Brown sat there legs crossed, all high and mighty. He knew he had cornered me.
“2 week suspension huh?” I opened up the conversation on a lighter note.
“How are you feeling about that?” Asked Dr. Brown reverting back to his usual laid back posture.
“How am I supposed to feel about that? We don’t talk every time someone around here gets disciplined.” I said it with a little too much sass, made it less believable.
“I know, it’s just I know you and James were close. Am I wrong?”
“As close as anyone else, I guess.” I shouldn’t have said I guess.
“You spend more than 12 hours a day with someone you get attached. There’s no shame in that.” Dr. Brown was getting to something.
“Is there a point?” I asked.
“I’m just asking how your adjusting is all.”
“I’m fine, everything is fine. Mike and I can actually say more than three words to each other now.” I said wanting to rush the topic even more.
“In comparison to your usual chattiness with James?” Asked Dr. Brown.
“Again, what is your point?” I said enunciating each word.
“All I’m saying is James seems to be one of the few people you’ve opened up too since the incident, and one of the few people on this earth that you trust, and he has been temporarily taken from you. It is alright to feel some type of way about that.”
“What do you want a funeral? You want me to mourn over my poor poor friend James and the rapist guard CJ? Well Boo-hoo cry me a river ‘cause you’re not going to get one from me. I mean really what do you want?” I was irritated now.
“I just want you to recognize when you’re hurting. Accept it and learn from it. Instead of focusing on the positives you seem to focus on the negatives. When I asked you about CJ, you complained about all the unwanted attention and not taking pride in the fact that you’re bringing your rape to justice. When I asked you about James you brought up his suspension. Being angry doesn’t help you to move on, and that’s what you being in here is all about.” Dr. Brown was right, per usual.
“Okay,” I said after a long pause and moment of silence. “So what do I do now?” I asked awaiting some special self-help theory that Dr. Brown was waiting to feed me.
“We keep talking.” Responded Dr. Brown. I lifted my head immediately from the back of the couch.
“That’s your plan? Seriously?” I said exhausted from the thought of future sessions like these. Dr. Brown laughed mildly and rose to the phone.
“I am going to integrate you back into group activities starting today.”
“Uh no, I told you I didn't want to do that.” I said laying my head back to its original position.
“And you don’t make the rules around here.” Dr. Brown stood and stared at me with a stern look, pushing the fact that I needed to be on my best behavior. “Besides how do you expect to survive when you’re back in the real world when you can’t even get along with the patients here in the hospital.” Dr. Brown began dialing on the phone.
“I don’t.” I said rolling my eyes admiring the built up dust on the ceiling.
“She’s ready.” Dr. Brown was talking on the phone probably paging Mike. “You don’t what?” He asked now speaking to me.
“I don’t expect to survive in the real world. You and I are going to rot here forever.” I said
“Well that’s discerning.” Dr. Brown said as Mike entered the room. “Group lunch will start tomorrow, you have a visitor today.” Mike was lifting me and leading me to the door.
“Yay!” I yelled out sarcastically as the doors of Dr. Brown’s office closed and ended are time together. For once I had felt better leaving his office, not different, or changed but better. Better because he was better about me. I hadn't even considered who could be visiting me.