Penny For a Thought

Two Cents

The room had wood walls, a deep wine coloured carpet, and was covered in paintings, bookshelves filled with knickknacks and text, and two sofas, facing each other. A coffee table lay in between the leather sofas, with an ivy plant, notepads, and a file. At the wooden desk in the back of the room in front of bay windows, there was a woman in her thirties or twenties, no one could be sure, who stood up from her chair and walked part way towards the guard and our inmate.

She was dressed in an oversized sweater and leggings. The woman had a small chest, but was full figured at the waist due to her Hispanic heritage. Although, she looked very white, much like her Portuguese father. Her hair was half up half down and in locks. And even though her hair seemed brown, the sunlight gave light reddish tones to the hair. Her eyes also changed colour so strangely from brown to green in sunlight.

This woman was the only friend our inmate truly had. And even then, there were limits to how this would play out, because her job was first and foremost to platonically assess each inmate's mental stability and capability to function normally in society. He knew she would judge fairly whether or not she should allow him to be released early. That is why he respected her so much and thought so highly of her.

"Thank you, sir," The woman said. "You can leave now. I'll handle him." With a nod, the guard tipped his head and turned, closing the door behind him. With the inmate and psychologist now alone, the both of them smile at each other warmly.

"Marcus, it's been a while. Hope you have more stories to tell me." The psychologist moved to a coffee machine on the left side of the room and poured a cup for herself and her patient, Marcus.

"How have you been, Teresa?" Marcus asked with a smirk he was famous for. The two of them had been having sessions for the entire five years Marcus had been here. Teresa was interning with the previous psychologist and had started on Marcus as soon as he came in.

"I've been alright," Teresa answered. "Feeling slightly under-motivated lately. I really just want to do nothing this whole week." Marcus smiled at the confession.

"Believe me, doing nothing all day isn't all its cracked up to be." Teresa moved towards Marcus with the mugs of coffee in her hands and handed one to Marcus. They then moved to the leather couches and sat down, Teresa sitting on one leg, facing her friend, while he sat properly facing forwards taking a sip of his drink.

The silence between them was comfortable. They knew too much about each other now to be awkward. Marcus had even told her about the daughter he had lost in a still birth. Of course the confession was off the record, but that didn't stop Teresa from going to the house where Marcus used to live and walking the mile to find the barely marked grave.

The rock Marcus used to mark baby Emily's grave had been covered in dirt. But Teresa had a friend who worked with stone and asked him to make a headstone. Now in a bright pink granite the grave had "For Emily, from Mommy and Daddy 2014" in a still well hidden part of the wood.

"So you know what has to happen today right?" Teresa asked, putting her mug of coffee down on the coffee table. Marcus answered with a sigh.

"Yes," Marcus looked down, feeling somewhat bashful. "Hopefully I can answer you." Marcus rubbed half his face in his left hand while also setting his coffee down. Out of the corer of his eye he saw Teresa reach over for a notepad and the file that lay on the table.

"I don't see why not. If you can persuade an entire courtroom to drop your charges by that much you can convince me that youre mentally stable. All I need to determine is if you should b let out early or forced to stay in here longer." Marcus nodded in understanding. Teresa put the file down and reached forward to hold Marcus hand in her own. Marcus looked at her briefly before facing forward again.

"hey I know you don't like talking about her. But you need to understand, that tis is important. And your failure to comply may leave me no choice but to determine that you refuse to let out early." Marcus nodded yet again. He did not want to stay in this prison longer than he needed to. He knew he wasn't a bad man. He was an absolute angel compared to the ther men in this building. Compared to Henry.

"I know," Marcus whispered tears nearing his eyes. "It's just..."

"Don't get emotional here. I'm not a therapist. I'm a psychologist." Teresa let go of his hand. "And I'm also your friend. But, for today you need to see me as someone who isn't your friend. You need to tell me everything. And I'll be recording you is that alright?" Marcus' head perked up in apprehension at the question posed to him.

"What would you need to record?" Marcus near snapped. "Don't your type simply just take notes?" Teresa shook her head with a smile.

"Today is different Marcus." Teresa got up and waked over to a shelf of Knick knacks. "Today is the real deal, and because your original charge was so serious, I have to take the ultimate measures to make sure you aren't a sociopath or some other psychopath who uses lies to get his own way. I need to know your mind, not you. And to know that, I need to hear how you answer and analyse everything." Teresa pulled out a black box and placed it on the coffee table. In it all ready for use was a tape ready to have sound recorded on it. It would last up to two hours, depending on the depth to Marcus' story.

Marcus for the first time held a small ounce of disgust in him for this woman who was so ready to condemn him. The reality was, he was so sure in his story, that for once, he wished he could lie. Marcus glared at the object placed on the table. But eventually he leaned back with his arms on the back of the couch as Teresa sat on the other couch with her notepad and file.

"Whenever you're ready," Marcus said a breathy tone and an obviously fake smile." With a nod of her head, the psychologist pressed record and took a breath to ask a question.