Delirium

As I entered the room, I noticed there was blob paintings on the walls that you see in movies. It sort of gave me a sense of relief but I don't know why.

"Hello, you must be Giosia Calvi. Yes?" The doctor said with a smile plastered on his face. I could tell he didn't like his job one bit, I can tell a lot about a person just by the way they smile. I guess it's just a gift.

"Yes I am. But please call me Joni." I smile back and he nodded.

"So why are you here... let's start with that."

I sighed before answering with, "I honestly don't know why." He nodded and wrote something down on a piece of paper. I don't know why he's did that but I guess he had to.

"How was your childhood?"

"Shitty."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"Well, my dad died. My mom remarried when I was eight to some drunk Italian asshole who would beat me. My mom didn't give a shit, and my brother was the only one who truly loved me." I felt like I was going to tear up when I said the last part. The psychiatrist wrote down what I said and I gave him a look.

"Oh, I have to write everything down. But nobody sees it but me." He assured me and that made me smile.

"So I'm guessing you and your brother are close, eyes?"

"We were."

"Did something happen between you? Like a fight?"

"Something like that... he was murdered last year."

His eyes went wide before continuing to write things down. I could tell he heard about the case because of the way he kept looking at me.

My hair was in the way so I quickly brushed it behind my ear with my hand before looking around the room. It was a nice room, a little chilly but it felt nice. The couch didn't match the walls though, a pink couch with white walls. Interesting. I wonder what Ricky is doing out there. I said to myself as I looked at the psychiatrist.

"Okay, so I'm going to prescribe you some pills that should help you with your flashbacks. You have something called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. From your stepfather beating you and from your brother being murdered. I suggest you take these at night because they make you a little bit sleepy and dizzy. Please come back next month on the seventeenth for more medicine. Have a wonderful day Mr. Calvi."

With that, I left the room and Ricky and I went to get my medicine.



Once we got to my place, Ricky and I sat at my kitchen table talking about the case.

"I've heard this guy kills some of his victims in a slow manner... it's quite sad to be honest." Ricky states as he sips on his coffee that I made him. (First time making coffee, and I successfully did it!)

"Yeah, I seriously want to find out about why he's killing and torturing all these poor people."

"Maybe they're not innocent?"

"What are you trying to get at Ricky?"

"Maybe they did something to him or her? Because everyone this psycho has killed or severely tortured had a record."

"Almost everyone." I stated while looking at the papers the chief gave me.

"Oh... I'm sorry. I-I"

"Don't be sorry. Let's... let's just study the files. Starting with my brother's."

I looked at the files, but this time I didn't feel sick. I felt anger boil up in my veins because I just wanted this psycho to be caught. Dead or alive, I wanted him caught and hopefully it will be soon.

"I just realized something Ricky..." I trailed off as I looked at the recent victim's file and my brother's file.

"Yeah? What?"

"That my brother was the only one who wasn't part of the LGBT community. Everyone else is."

"Then why would the killer kill your brother?"

"... I-I don't know exactly why but I think I know."

"What do you think?"

"My brother would go to Hell and back to protect the LGBT community. He'd go to the meetings so maybe they thought he was gay?"

"That could be! But why is he killing Homosexuals?"

"I don't know."