Impurity

Chapter Twenty-Two - Flames

"We had our first session when she was sixteen. About a month after… after it happened. When she first walked in, I was surprised. I mean, I know that stereotypes are mostly misleading. But when I heard that a girl of sixteen years stabbed her own mother and boyfriend, I would have expected her to look a little more… daunting? I’m sorry, I’ve got to be honest with you. Even though I’m a well educated psychologist, psychiatrist and should know better than that, I actually pictured her as one of those tiny, pale little horror film girls with black, braided hair and emotionless faces. Like Wednesday Addams, maybe. I’m sorry. But when she came in, the first thought that crossed my mind was ‘She’s beautiful’. And I felt so ashamed and unprofessional. But that’s what I thought in that moment. That she was truly beautiful. Not the kind of beautiful that magazines try to determine. It wasn’t just her face or the already so womanlike body beneath her black clothes, it was in the way she held herself. You could tell that she’s seen things, did things, went through hard phases. But she still carried herself with her head held high. And her aura. Her aura filled my entire office from the first second on. I knew she was a strong girl. And not a bad person."

Doctor Francis Rossdale looks at Officer Moore and swallows. It still tastes like whiskey in her mouth. She didn’t have a drink in so long. But last night, she was in desperate need.

She knew that at some point in her life, she’d have to face it. She’d have to deal with the truth. The fact that her sympathy for Morgan was sympathy for a serial killer. And that was, in fact, not quite convenient for someone in her position. She felt guilty. Every word just worsened it. But she had to tell them the whole story. The story of how she met, treated and defended a serial killer. And who listened closely could tell she was willing to do it again.

"Go on.", Officer Pritchard demands.

Doctor Rossdale nods, scratching the back of her hand. When did it get so wrinkly?

"We didn’t talk about the incident first. I asked for her name. Her age. Her hobbies. Her favourite kind of music. She seemed to enjoy being asked all these question. I don’t know if she answered them truthfully, but she had fun and that mattered to me. It was weird, you know? I had treated a lot of rather difficult cases already, murderes, too, but none of them had only been close to Morgan Valentine. I knew it from the start. That there was something about her that would make it impossible for me to treat her as distant and cold as some of my other patients. The contrast of my knowledge on the crime she commited and the girl in the chair in front of me was definetly extreme. I’m not saying she was a happy, smiley kind of girl. She wasn’t. There was so much sadness in her eyes. Devastation, honestly. And there were scars all over her forearms. She wore a pair of denim shorts and I could see scars on her thighs as well. But it seemed to me that she had not much in common with the killers I had treated before. I mean, that’s why they didn’t send her to prison right away, right? She was just a child. And the juvenile law cleary said she had to get treatment at the Bethlem Royal. They kept her in custody before the trial, though. And it didn’t do her well. But wait, we’re not… We’re not there yet. Let me think. Yes, our first meeting. We didn’t talk about her mother of her boyfriend, Dylan, at all. We only talked about really random things. Actually, we talked about books a lot in our first six sessions. Books and films and music. She told me she never finished books that didn’t keep her interest throughout the story. That’s why she never read the end of ‘To Kill A Mockingbird’. She said ‘It’s a classic, yes, but it’s so boring. The whole book, I mean, the part I read, was just about how fucking super cool and sexy Atticus Finch is. They should’ve called the book My sexy lawyer dad and the creepy neighbour . Because that’s what it’s about.’ I looked at her and I seriously had to laugh. It surprised her. I think she didn’t know that I liked her. Yes, I liked her. I know a therapist should keep distance to their patients. But I couldn’t. I liked her and I think the moment I laughed at that, she realised it. That I wasn’t just sent by the police to squeeze her brain like a grapefruit. That I actually cared for her. Listened to her. That I was there for her. It made me wonder how honest she’d been up to that point. Considering she probably didn’t trust me, I realised she must have lied a lot. That was something she’s always been good at. Morgan Valentine is both the most honest person and the best liar in the whole world.”