ELIZA

CHAPTER FORTY: SYNDROME

I gave a statement to the police. At least I tried, because it was hard for me to answer their stupid questions like: When did you regain consciousness - here or abroad? Did the suspect rape you? How often did you try to escape?

I was so jittery that I asked for a break several times, just to come up with a defense for Cosmo. After all, I couldn't tell them the truth, or he would actually go to prison. It will certainly not be without significance that his files weren't clean - after all, he had already been accused of murder once, and even if he was innocent, it wouldn't look too good.

The woman hadn't parted with me since the airport. I had already deduced that she must be some kind of psychologist, because her questions were different from the ones asked by the police. Her questions weren't questions at all, but rather sentences that made me think. She asked me to switch roles in my head and asked if I would do to Cosmo what he did to me. My answer for her was: "I would, of course", but the unspoken truth was: "of course I wouldn't". I couldn't abduct anyone, even though the reason could be simple - after all, I didn't have enough strength, funds, and...

Yes, here I went into a zone that didn't help Cosmo. I wouldn't want to force anyone to travel with me. I couldn't drug someone to kidnap them. I wasn't like that. So I stayed silent, so as not to blabber on what I was thinking.

The woman's voice was patient, soothing and understanding. I didn't want to be fooled by this, but after a few hours I preferred to answer her rather than the cops who looked at me as a criminal, an accomplice. She was different, I think she really understood me.

However, during the break I heard her tell someone in a confident voice that I was heavily influenced by Cosmo. That it was definitely Stockholm Syndrome and that after a few sessions with me, she would break me. Maybe she didn't use this word, but that was the meaning.

So after returning from the bathroom, I declared that I didn't know what they wanted from me, that I had had the best vacation of my life and that I wanted to go to sleep. I almost went too far saying that I live with Cosmo, I was in his apartment after all, but I would have to have the keys...

They let me out in the end, although I was sure it was thanks to this psychologist. As she drove me home, I wondered if I had played it okay. Some questions I didn't answer at all, such as "why we used fake passports when that also carries a prison sentence". I replied casually "for fun", but I know no one believed it. Or the question of "why I called and said I was abducted when now I'm saying otherwise", I ignored it.

"You know, you'd help him better if you told the truth," the woman said after long minutes of silence.

I inhaled loudly. And again the same...

"I'm telling the truth," I said, though I turned my head to the window.

"No, that's not true. Even if you wish it was. You see, this isn't the first time in my career that I've come across something like this. And I'm telling you, it's better for both, the victims and the kidnappers, if you realize it beforehand."

I bit my lip. Or what? The woman seemed to read my mind because she added.

"I know you feel torn. You want to help him because you like him, but... he could have been any boy, someone else could have done this to you. Would you be so understanding then? I don't mean to scare you, because that's not the point, but if you don't cooperate, they'll find a way to punish him. Even the possession and use of false documents, the possession of weapons..."

How did they know it? When I got out of the car, I pretended like I didn't know what she was talking about. I made a smart face.

"You know nothing. First of all, I do not like him, but I love him, and second of all he is not just any boy, because he is my boy. I will do everything in my power to get him out of jail."

One thing she didn't know. Me and Cosmo weren't typical textbook example of a hostage and a kidnapper. Cosmo and I had a relationship before the kidnapping. I slammed the door with all my might. 

I'll show her Stockholm Syndrome.