Patrick Bateman, My Teacher

Week 2, Day 9: Tuesday

I had set my alarm extra early this morning to go for a walk to my new comfort place. Ironically, this was simultaneously the place of my nightmares. Nevertheless, there was a hungry dog waiting there who wouldn't stop scratching at my mind.

I had even gone out of my way to purchase some real dog food for him. In a plastic bag, I carried with me some dog biscuits and meat in a separate pouch. I brought a water bottle with me as well, as it dawned on me that it doesn't rain as much in New York as it did in the UK.

Somewhat fondly and yet disgusted at the sight of the town, I took in the familiarly desolate atmosphere.

Repeating yesterday's routine, I cautiously stepped over the wooden pane that had caught me out last time and set a mental reminder to watch out for it on the way out. Feeling less anxious this time, I creaked up the stairs with my phone torch shining bright in front of me.

Somehow I just knew the labrador would be here. And sure enough, he was. Slightly surprised by my presence, his ears perked up as his body lay lethargically on the floor, his furry chin resting on his front paws.

I brought out his treats and he licked his lips gratefully before I hand fed him and poured the meat on a cardboard scrap. He drank the water from the bottle appreciatively. I ruffled his ears as he ate happily and found my hand moving down to inspect a collar that I hadn't even realised he had before now.

I turned over the tag curiously and read the name 'Jacques'. Feeling a newfound bond at the discovery of his name, I gently stroked his head and smiled.

"I have to get back to school now, Jacques", I informed him regrettably, leaving the rest of his food for him to enjoy in peace, "I'll be back tomorrow, okay?"

He whined as I patted his head one last time before leaving, this time unwounded as I skipped cheerfully over that damned wooden pane.

---

"And that is why science could save your life one day", Patrick was lecturing the class in our first lesson of the day, "Knowing your body, how everything works from arteries to ligaments, heightens your survival chances if you were ever to be physically injured and alone".

My head was resting on the palm of my hand as I leant on my desk, slightly mesmerised by Patrick's attire today. Of course he was wearing a suit per usual, which was accessorised with a light blue shirt underneath and a yellow plaid tie. This morning, he also had on some burgundy, Clark Kent style glasses that blessed him with a new reserved, brooding look. I found it hard not to stare.

I felt a lot calmer than I did yesterday, ever since Patrick spoke to me and told me to rest. His words were like a sedative to me. He must have noticed my tranquility as he often sent me approving, reassuring smiles during the class.

"Ryan just messaged", Alison nudged me, dragging me out of my trance, "James still isn't back. The school have phoned his dad and the police are getting involved now, he says".

The hair on my arms stood up. James was still missing. I met Alison's eyes solemnly and thought about him.

"You don't...", Alison started, sniffing quietly, "You don't think anything has happened to him, do you?"

"Alison", I placed my hand on her shoulder, "He skips school all the time, doesn't he? He'll be out partying or meeting new girls. He's fine".

I wasn't sure if I was trying to convince Alison or myself, but I said my words feeling unsure. Alison nodded, seeming unconvinced as well, and bit her nails anxiously.

Patrick was watching us talk from his desk at the front of the class. I couldn't tell if he could hear what we were saying, but his eyes were watching us both closely as if he was concerned or on edge about something. His eyebrows fell down in stern observation and, when I side glanced him, he stared hard at me as if trying to telepathically tell me something. Maybe he was just lost in thought.