Stockholm Syndrome // sm

Chapter Thirty

"To what degree would you say that Shawn has affected you?" A therapist asked and I looked at my mom, who stood by a door.

"You're kidding me."

"I don't understand how you can have such love for a monster, Jennifer!" She snapped and I crossed my arms as I leaned back in my chair.

"What do you wish to achieve? If you won't understand your own daughter, how are therapists and shrinks and psychiatrists supposed to?" I asked in desperation.

"I'll be back in an hour. Be good." She declared, shutting the door and leaving me alone with the therapist.

"Well?" She pressed, awaiting my answer for her previous question. I sighed and then tapped my nails on the wooden arm of the chair I sat on.

"I don't understand the question." I told her, my lips pursed together as I looked her in the eyes.

"Have you felt different after meeting Shawn? Have you felt as if he's made a connection with you?" She asked me her hands folded together above her desk.

"Shawn made me feel like I was important." I admitted as she nodded her head. "I felt like a woman instead of a little girl. He was practically the man of my dreams. He understood me on a level no one else has."

"How so?"

"Everyone here is so... immature." I criticized. "It's all about the newest shoes and the latest cars. People only talk about how much money they make and how many people they've slept with."

"Mhm. Go on." She urged and I bit my bottom lip as I finally got this off of my chest.

"Around him, I didn't have to be perfect. I didn't have to work out all the time or score all of the winning goals. I didn't need to fix my hair every day or show off all of my new clothes and jewelry. It was just us enjoying each other's company, after all the hostility was gone of course." I commented and she nodded.

"When did the 'hostility' end?" She asked me and I thought about it.

"Maybe about three weeks in. After that, I grew to like being around Shawn. Moments came when we'd have a fallout, but it was never anything major." I recalled and she wrote that down.

"Would you say that perhaps... perhaps you understand his reasoning for doing what he did? That if you were in his position, you'd do what he did?" She inquired and I furrowed my eyebrows together.

"Elaborate."

"Imagine that the roles were switched, can you do that?" She asked me and I nodded. "Would you have done what he did? Can you understand why he did what he did?"

"Totally." I answered. "It wasn't his fault. He was as trapped as I was. I would have been the same way, upset but willing to help as much as I could. He helped me in a way that if he hadn't shown me that kind of kindness, I would have done something... destructive."

"Such as?"

"I'd answer that, but since I have yet to be kidnapped and treated like a caged animal or object, I cannot give you an accurate answer." I answered and she told me to use my imagination. "I'd rather not."

"Okay then..." She trailed off and forced a smile to me. "You were there for Christmas, how was that? How did it go?"

"It was wonderful. We didn't do gifts for one another, but we did spend it together. We watched movies and listened to our favourite movies. We went to a few parties and had fun. It was almost like... a vacation away from the stress of highschool and soccer and my mom." I admitted as I leaned back in my chair.

"Why did you feel that way?"

"I know this is therapy, it's your job to ask questions, but you're really repetitive. Where do these answers go?" I asked and she pushed her glasses up.

"Nowhere."

"You sure? You're writing my answers down. Do they go to the police? My mom maybe?" I questioned her. "They think I'm crazy. Do you?"

"I've seen crazy, you're just... special."

"How so?"

"I've never worked with anyone in a situation like yours." She smiled and set her pen down. "You're unique. I'm almost glad I got a chance to talk to you."

"I'm not sure anyone around town has been kidnapped and sold." I rose an eyebrow at her. "If so, I doubt they... fell in love with the person they were stuck with."

"Your mother is worried you have fallen under a type of stockholm syndrome spell." She informed me and I snorted.

"I know." I nodded my head as I looked outside of the window. "She thinks I'm crazy, insane even. But I'm not. He never hurt me. He treated me kindly. He's nice to be around. I don't think it's strange that I fell in love with him. Our situation is just... different."

"Just because he didn't hurt you, doesn't mean he hadn't hurt others. People who are forced to do something by their parents, usually try to enjoy it toe seem less trapped." She suggested and I took a deep breath. "Maybe-"

"No." I cut her off, looking at her in the eye. "No he didn't hurt anyone. Not me. Not the he girls who came before me. He's too genuine. He's too sweet."

"Every saint has made mistakes. Just because he's changed, doesn't mean he hasn't done wrong." She reminded me but I shook my head.

"You're wrong." I accused as I stood up. "You get paid by the hour, so I can sit here in silence and you still get money. I don't want to talk about Shawn and I. I don't want to talk about my time there."

"We aren't sitting here for a full half hour without talking." She declared and I stood up, walking around her office slowly.

"Well then... what do you want to talk about?"

"Your mother mentioned your refusal to go back to school."

"Incorrect." I immediately responded, taking her off guard. "I do not want to go back to the same school. I have no problem with picking up where I left off."

"Well, have you told her that then? She's convinced you don't want to."

"Of course I have." My words came out with a bitter laugh. "You think she wants to switch my schools? Do you think she wants to do as I ask? No, not even a single thought to it. It's insane."

"Why do you think that?" She asked me and I crossed my arms over my chest as is I faced her.

I stayed silent as I looked at her, taking a deep breath. I wasn't answering that. We both knew the answer to it.

"Alright..." She trailed off as my phone rang. "Do you want to get that?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Not every little thing I do has a mental reason behind it. I don't want to answer, because I don't want to talk to anyone." I told her, my voice slightly risen to ensure my point got across the table.

"Alright. No need for hostility." She soothed me, standing up herself. She approached me slowly, and I tore my eyes away from her. "Let's talk about the boyfriend she mentioned."

"Was his name Harry?" I asked and she nodded her head. "He can go rot. He's a liar and a cheat. Shawn is all I want. He's the one I love the most."

"Back to Shawn..." She murmured and I checked my phone, seeing we didn't have too much time left, maybe ten minutes.

"I'm done talking." I told her, sticking my nose up slightly. "I don't need help. I'm fine. My mom just doesn't understand."

"Maybe you both are misunderstanding each other-"

"No. No that's not the case. She's not here to help me anymore. She's here to stop me from something... but from what?" I pondered aloud.