Alejo [Vampire]

Alejo- Chapter 3

::CHAPTER 3::

Waterfalls and glass. Mock skies and sunlight. Ice sculptures sitting on an emerald, faux lawn glinting translucent. The view outside was a deathly cold room designed to look like the outdoors. The inside was as well designed. Three thousand dollar couches and Peruvian carpets with great, antique lamps mounted on walls of white and gold.

And even with all of this they can’t seem to find an answer to my problem.

“Sorry I’m late,” a balding man in slacks and a soft, button down walked in, “I hope it’s fine, but I went to make a call.”

“As long as you know that you’re going to make up that lost time.”

“Yes yes.”

“Have a seat,” I pointed to the couch that he was usually perched in whenever I walked in.

He raised a brow but took his seat. “You would think that it wasn’t my office the way you talked to me,” he said. I sat back to place one ankle on the knee of a well pressed pair of pants.

“You would think that it wasn’t my deceased father’s money being spent the way you had me waiting.”

“I apologized.”

“And was arrogant enough to assume you were forgiven too.”

“You don’t forgive easily, do you Alejo?” he frowned. My eyes trailed after him as he pulled out a book and a pen.

“Forgiveness is condoning. You forgive a man once and he thinks he can get away with the same offence again.”

“Interesting take,” he began to write, “We both know that your father brought you hear against your will. Now that he’s gone, why do you still come? I was surprised at your call.”

“You don’t give refunds and my father paid for a lot of sessions with you. I’ll be damned if all that money goes to waste. I’ve seen the bill. You’re not getting that cash without doing something for it.”

“Fair enough. So do you want to talk about what happened with your family?” he asked leaning forward, “I haven’t seen you since the incident.”

“I don’t want to talk about it but I see that you want to. They were murdered, I know who did it and I plan to make sure he doesn’t do the same to me.”

“That’s not what I meant. I was talking about you and how you feel about their passing.”

“Oh.”

I stared at him. I blinked. There was nothing to talk about. I wasn’t affected in the slightest. I knew that and he knew that. Why he still acted like I should feel something was beyond me.

“I don’t understand. I thought we already established that I have no emotional bond with anyone.”

“No. I said that you may never have any true emotional bond with anyone. I hoped that the loss would awaken…something. Anything.”

“Nothing,” I ran my fingers over the almost silken couch arm.

“Not even a small longing? Regret? A need for vengeance?”

“Sorry to disappoint,” I said.

“What about Samuel? If your priest died, think of the possibility and tell me your reaction,” the psychiatrist scribbled into his book, “Close your eyes and think of a world without your advisor.”

Leaning back in the couch, I shut both eyes and sighed. My mind ran on the persistent priest. I thought about him and our time together over the years. He was the closest thing I had to a friend but we both knew better.