Author's Abundance

Asylum

You're just another lost soul...

"Where were we?" The doctor asked, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder and re-famaliarising herself with the page of notes she'd taken. She straightened her red blouse and looked at the man opposite her.

He was bald, with thin stubble splattered around his chin. His peircing blue eyes were empty and cold. They shifted quickly, uneasy as he twitched in the straight jacket. The fabric stretch taut against his straining muscles. He laughed darkly, it echoed maliciously across the white concrete walls.
"See her... Do you see her?" He asked, his dead eyes staring into her soul. His right eyelid twitched as he trembled, his eerie grin unsettling her.
The woman frowned.
"See who?" She asked him, her voice calm. She clicked her pen and began to annotate her evaluation. The man just stared around the room, paying close attention to each corner.
"Them, all of them. There's a young girl stood behind you and another man in the corner." He explained, nodding over to where he could see them. The woman turned behind her, glancing over the chair's steel frame.

There was no one.

She looked across to the corner where he had motioned. Again, no one was there.
"I don't see anyone." She stated, turning back to face him.
"Just because you don't see it doesn't mean that it isn't there..." He sang, his tone ambiguous. She furrowed her brow and began scribbling more notes.
'Ugh, I hate this idiot..' She grimaced internally.
"You're mean, don't think such mean things." He replied, his face like stone.

She gasped and her eyes widened, but she quickly corrected herself.
"I don't know what you're tal-"
"Does it depress you, Doc? Knowing that you're stuck with us forever? I mean, I'd be pretty distraught." He sang, leaning from side to side slightly on his chair. "Have you heard Trevor from room 15? Jesus Christ, he's such a whiner! I'd love to gouge his eyeballs out and skull-fuck him, wouldn't you? I'd love to." He said simply, staring back at her, straight-faced.

She blinked; trying to process what she had just heard.
'Wow, this guy is so fucked up.' She thought.
"I mean take Elise for example." He began.
"Who's Elise?" She asked him. He merely laughed at her in his sadistic tune before carrying on like she'd never asked. He swayed slightly in his chair.
"Young girl, got a lot going for her. Very pretty, smart, thoughtful and kind. Then in a flash, her world did a complete reversal on her. Her mom died, she was fourty-four. So young! Elise was fourteen and had no Mom, her Father spiralled into depression. He later joined his wife in hell when Elise was sixteen. An orphan at sixteen, luckily for her she'd done well at school. Went to college but as the pressure loomed over her. She cracked." He continued.
"I see... Can you tell me what happened next, Damien?" She asked, her throat dry. Damien grinned evily.
"She decided to become a Psychologicist. She sits there with a clipboard and pen and interviews the people she thinks are screwed up, but they aren't screwed up." He muttered.
"Who are then?" She asked, her tone brusque.

"You are, Elise. You're screwed up."