Room 25

This is why you follow me

Chris looked at her now bandaged arms. All her wounds had been treated, and she could now somewhat move. The cuffs had been placed back on her wrists now she could. She was in the bed, and Gunter was sitting on the other chair that was placed at the table. He was drinking coffee and looking at his phone, rocking the chair with his foot pressed on the table. He hadn't looked at Chris once, not even when he was bandaging her up. Whilst cleaning up, she'd heard muffled cries from the main room. It had been Gunter. She didn't need to see him to know. As a therapist, she'd seen and heard her fair share of cries, and she knew how to recognize who they belonged to and what they meant. 'Guilt' She had thought. Gunter wasn't a sadistic monster as she had previously presumed. No. This was something else. And she was determined to figure it out. "Gunter?" Her voice was still coarse from the screams, but now it was sounding more like her own voice. "hmm?" He responded, not looking up from his phone. Chris gulped, preparing herself for the onslaught that may follow. She knew she had to be direct, no beating around the bush. 'Now or never.' "What happened to you?" There was a silence as Gunter stopped mid-rock. His eyes widened slightly, he gulped. 'I'm right' Chris thought. "I'm, sorry?" His voice was slightly stuttered. It was very slight, but Chris could hear it. The proof that she'd hit the nail on the head. Now to hammer it in. "Well, you're not a sadist. But what you did to me." She paused. She didn't want to think about what had transpired. Shaking her head as if to shake the memories away, she continued, "Those kinds of acts, you have either got to be sadistic or suffered something so horrendous that those kinds of acts become child's play. Something you're numb to." For the first time since she had met him, Gunter's body language reflected vulnerability. Until now he had been a figure of strength and pride, but now, he looked like a child who had been caught in a lie and was now being confronted by their mother. He was trying his best to hide it, crossing his arms and puffing out his chest, bringing his nose up and leaning back. Chris had seen it all before. This was a broken man that sat before her. Not a sadist who found happiness and pleasure in the suffering of others. A man who hated to see people suffer, but had a strong sense of justice. Chris didn't wait for a response. "You confused suffering for justice. You didn't want to see me suffer Gunter. You wanted to see me show remorse." Gunter had dropped his chair back down and had turned his face away from Chris. He quickly smirked. It was solemn, erratic, defensive. He was uncomfortable and trying to hold back tears. Trying to keep up this strong facade. "Fucking shrinks." She heard a sniffle as he turned his head to face away from her and brought a hand to his nose before returning his glance to the floor. 'No turning back now' Chris inhaled and continued. "You're not making any eye contact, and you're fidgeting quite a bit. Before you never lost eye contact. You seem completely different right now Gunter." She tilted her head at him, observing his quick head movements and laughs. His leg was bouncing up and down, and his eyes were darting to different places before returning to look back down at the floor or into the kitchen. "Can you look at me?" Chris said, trying to present an inviting tone that wasn't patronizing. Gunter quickly glanced at her eyes before glancing at the wall just beside her head and returning to look at the floor. The dynamic between them had completely changed. Gunter was no longer a lion chasing down its prey. Now he was more like an injured lion who could no longer keep face. He was still a lion, only now he was vulnerable. 'No' Chris thought, 'that's not it. He isn't vulnerable.' "Do you feel weak?" Gunter finally spoke, "I fucking hate shrinks." His words sounded almost monotone with stripes of panic. Then it hit her. "You're autistic, aren't you?"

Gunter's movements stopped, and he turned to look at Chris, making direct eye contact, "No." After a few moments, Gunter broke the stare and shifted his gaze to the same spots in the same order. Wall. Floor. Door. Floor. "You know I'm a therapist, right? No point trying to lie to me." Gunter muttered in response "Like you lied to me?" His gaze kept shifting. Door. Wall. Floor. His mask was dropping. Chris had worked with autistic individuals before and knew the stigmas and stereotypes surrounding it. "You're not a child Gunter. You're a man. And you sure as hell ain't some weak little thing that needs talking down to and protecting." Gunter smiled, tears threatening to escape his eyes. "I know that."