The Psychiatrist: Trilogy to The Doll Collector

Chapter 1: Maria

The knife was so steady in my hand, despite the adrenaline rushing through every vein in my body. They were surgeon steady. I could feel it pulsing, propelling me deeper into my darkest urges.

It felt right.

This is what it felt like, this is what he had described.

My Kris, he was right, this was a feeling like no other.

I drew closer to him as he sat tied in his chair. The fear in his eyes was delectable. I held the power tonight. He squirmed in his ropes, begging with his eyes for me to let him go.

I couldn't, not now. I'd come so far. I had to made it to the grand finale.

I rounded his chair, tracing a lazy hand through his hair. The sensation sent a shudder down his back. He whimpered in pure terror. His soft cries did inspire some pity. Deep down, somewhere, was my innocence. It hadn't died yet.

He tensed, however, when I leaned down to whisper in his ear that it was time. The first time was always the hardest, but I had learned from the best.

I pressed the edge of the blade against his skin, adding just enough pressure to draw blood. It glistened in the low light. Now it really was time. I pressed a kiss to the side of his face then pulled the knife across his neck.

I jolted awake, covered in a cold sweat. My heart was pounding against my chest as I caught my breath. I held my head, before slumping back into my pillow. Anxiety and heat ripples through me.

It seemed so real. It always did.

Sometimes I wondered if they were dreams at all, or if I had actually killed someone.

I shook off the trepidation beginning to erupt in my chest, and got out of bed. It was just a nightmare. A horribly vivid nightmare.

I looked at myself in the mirror of my bathroom. Those words were supposed to give me comfort, but all they did was reinforce the doubt that perhaps it wasn't a creation of my own thought.

My mind fogged, still wrapped up in the details of my nightmare. This was normal. I hardly noticed I was going through the motions of getting ready and somehow ended up at the hospital.

The sign loomed overhead. St. John's Children's Psychiatric hospital. My shoes click-clacked on the floor as I walked to my intended destination. Up ahead we're a pair of benches and I took a seat to wait patiently outside of the program director's office. Patiently? Just kidding, I was nervous as all hell.

The fog had cleared, the reality had set in, and it was killing me. Today would determine whether all the hard work I'd done would pay off. I'd busted my ass for this.

A fellow intern that I'd worked with, exited the office. Her facial features were sunken from sleepless nights.

Been there, still there. This was such a big day for everyone. She smiled at me, and gave me a little wink. I breathed a sigh of relief. She'd gotten the hospital she wanted, and it wasn't the one I strived for.

From the other side of the closed door, the program director called me in. I grabbed my purse, stood, and carefully opened her door. She asked me to take a seat and get comfortable.

"Good morning, Jordana." she smiled.

"Good morning, Dr. Cuevas." I replied.

"I wanted to start off by first telling you that you did exceptionally well in this program. The patients loved you, and I was very impressed by your work ethic. That being said, you're one of two doctors who get their choice of where they would like to be placed."