PSYCHOPATH

chapter 4: the holy bible

                 

Chapter 4: The Holy Bible

~"You gave up heaven for me or where you destined for hell?"~Unknown

            "What seems to be the problem in your life?"

Ella could now understand how therapy is said to be the best thing disguised as the worse. She never thought she would need it. The idea of sitting down and talking to a person about your problems while they get paid for it was always absurd to her. Now, it felt like the only option. Any other person she could rant to about the things happening to her would think of her as a little crazy and paranoid; a therapist would remain unbiased and try to help her deal with her fragile mentality.

Truthfully, Ella desperately needed a therapy session. Seeing dead bodies, the site of actual murders, having a home invasion, being the victim of serial killer stalking, seems to take a toll on the human psyche. After the lingerie incident, it took her less than a day to make an appointment with the therapist Will recommended. She could feel eyes on her all the time. Every moment was now one spent being watched. Every moment for her now felt like a last one.

            So that was what Ella told her. Ella told her everything that had transpired those past two days with shaky breaths, clammy hands, and all the signs of being on the tip of a mental breakdown. The words spilled from her mouth rapidly, endlessly as verbal vomit, until she was done and left trying to keep her heart from pounding its way out her chest. She could imagine the Code Killer stepping through the door right and sending a knife in her heart because she was telling on him. What was the point of all this horror? There was none.

            Ella knew she was about to be defeated. By an invisible enemy. A inescapable darkness that she knows is there but has no power against.

            The woman sighed once she was finished, giving a small shake of her head and jotting something down on her notepad. Ella sank back into the leather of the couch. Her new therapist, who simply told her to call her Beatrice to create a more personal relationship right off the bat, sat behind a slate black desk directly across.

            "Some part of me feels like I killed the woman. She was wearing my lingerie, and I feel like I killed her. He killed her to -excuse my language- fuck with me and I can't help but feel like it's my fault." Ella's knees bounced up and down nervously. "I should have done something to prevent it. But I don't know what and that's the problem."

            Beatrice looked up from her notepad, glanced back down to shuffle some papers around, and then met Ella's pale gaze. Her therapist's grey eyes were purely sympathetic, with a certain layer of steely determination set underneath. Ella felt like she had seen those eyes before on another face. "I have had many patients, with many different types of problems: schizophrenia, PTSD, Cotard delusion. Hell, just last week, I had a man come in claiming to be getting married to a woman who he believes is his deceased daughter. But this one definitely takes the cake for the scariest one."

            Ella deflated. It was really bad, wasn't it?

            "But," Beatrice continued with more levity in her voice this time. The older woman's thin lips curved upward, her small wrinkles easing away with the small smile. "It will be a problem you will learn to deal with. You are not in this alone."

            "Now, I have no true answer for how to defeat this grim reaper following behind you every step of the way. However, I can help you in your quest to defeat him."

            Letting a huff of air blow from her lips, Ella leaned forward, pushing her dark hair out of her face. She was so thankful for another person to believe her on this, to try and help her with what she was going through. Yeah sure it was the therapist's job to believe her but it still felt good hearing that she wasn't alone. You're not alone.