The Psychiatrist

Chapter Nine

     The door burst open and I'm in Clark's big strong arms, and for the inmate, he was being roughened up by Joe and the two other guards. My heart is racing fast, the room is spinning, spinning really fast and my breath is restricted.
     "Diana, Diana look at me." Clark says, shaking me, bringing me back into reality.
     "What?" I snap.
     I swallow a deep breath and am back, realizing what happened, I need to pull myself together. Focus and get this back on track.
     "Are you okay? If you aren't, you don't have to go through with this, I will just give you an A and we can get a medic to look at your wrist." He says, with concerned eyes.
     "I'm fine, now please leave."
     "Diana, you don't have to prove yourself to me or anybody else, we can sweep this all under the rug and forget about everything. Your grade will remain an A in the class and I'll help you with the final exam and boards, okay? Please don't go through with this, he'll hurt you and I don't want to lose you again." he says and this time he's begging me.
     "I am not yours to lose anymore, those days are over like I've told you earlier. I am fine, now please leave me alone." I say with a straight face. I discreetly slip off the engagement ring and place it in his hand. His eyes flicker to the ring then back at me.
     It's over Clark.
     Clark swiftly stood up and looked at his pathetic friends and they made their way to the door, leaving me on the floor. The door closes loudly behind them making me jump. The inmate rose to his feet, his face was a blank expression as he got closer to me. I soak in his strong build and broad shoulders as he kneels in front of me.
     "Let me see your wrists." he says softly.
He slowly gets to his knees and now he's in front of me, making me hesitant to listen to him. His breath is gentle as he breathes calmly.
     A soft little widows peak catches my eye, and now that he is closer to me, I notice the soft but strong contour of the bridge of his nose. Smooth and somewhat long but not too long, well rounded bulb at the tip of his nose. Naturally my eyes dropped down to his lips, perfect and pink. A bottom lip that any girl would want to sink there-
     "Please, let me see your wrists. I won't hurt you again, you have my word." he says, interrupting my study of his face.
     Afraid to deny him, I reluctantly show him my wrist. His hands are soft and sweaty as they gently caress my wrists. My focus is on his body language which is really calm, putting me at ease, he doesn't seem dangerous.
     "They're not sprained but you'll see some bruising in the next few days." he says, as he lifts himself from the ground.
     "Oh great, more bruises." I quietly mutter to myself, regretting instantly when I sense a pair of forest green eyes stare at me, and now he's reading me. I don't want your pity or your sympathy, so you can stop staring at me like that. I hate how he stares at me, I feel so naked and vulnerable with his strong gaze casted upon me. Get this interview back on track.
     I'm finally on my feet and taking my seat across from him, I took a breather. Here goes nothing. Reaching into my purse I pulled out my journal, pencil, and recorder. He watched me intensely as I assembled my things.  I gently sat the recorder down and pressed play.
     "Hi, my name Diana Welsh. I am a psychiatric intern and student at the University Of South Tampa.  I will be examining your physical and mental health. Could I please have your full name."
     "Why?"
     "I have to fill out your Psychiatric folder."
     "I'm not crazy and I don't need a psychiatrist." Oh yes you do.
     "That's not what the state of Florida seems to think."
     "Do you think I'm crazy?"
     "It doesn't matter what I think."
     "Well they should've already given you something with my name on it. Hm maybe a folder with at least some kind of information about me."
     He's right.. spot on right. Where was my folder on him, I should've gotten one. Son of a bitch, Clark didn't give me one. That's fine I'll make my own. Pausing the recorder, I began to write down the things I noticed. Like the change of tone in his voice. The tone of his voice was more on the aggravated side, I also can't forget his violent shove.
     "Since you won't give me your name, I'd like to move on to the physical examination. Please don't make any sudden moves when I get close to you."
     No answer just a stare. With his eyes never leaving mines, I walked over to him reaching for his free arm sliding back the dark red sleeve to his uniform. I turned over his wrist to see if there were any slits or cuts. None. His breathing grew heavier each second my hands scaled up his arm. There's no cuts anywhere on his arm none that I can see. Those icy green glaciers were still on me.. burning holes in me I might add.
     "My name is Oliver Theodore Valentine."
     "It's nice to meet you Oliver."
     "Have we met before? I'm sure I've seen you somewhere."
     His voice had drastically softened from his aggravated tone from earlier. Ever so moody he seems, I must put this in my notes. Glancing up to steal a peak at Oliver, his eyes were focused and trained on his thighs. Even his gaze had soften. The intensity from earlier had completely evaporated into thin air.
     "No."
     "I know I've seen you somewhere, I just can't remember."
     He couldn't possibly know me, where not in the same profession. I know we don't run in the same crowds either. I pulled the sleeve of his jumpsuit down and moved on to looking at his shoulders. No scars there. I gasped at the huge cut that was on the right side of his neck. Did he try to kill himself? The question alone made me afraid to ask him. I gently placed my hand on his neck tracing the outline of the scar.
     "Oliver, did you hurt yourself-"
     "Dana I've already told it was an accident."
     Who is Dana and why does he keep calling me that. It's obvious that this scar is a result of a suicide attempt. This wasn't an accident and I'm very sure of it.
     "It's Diana. You called me Dana again."
     His eyes met mines again but this time there were little tear drops forming in them. His hand gently brushed against mines, making me shiver. I pulled my hand away and walked over to the other side of Oliver and examined his body. He was clean as a whistle.. well with the exception of the scar on his neck. I made my way back to my seat and made notes on his change of mood and behavior, and most importantly the scar on his neck. Since my direct approach didn't work earlier, I devised a plan on how to get him to trust me.
     "Have you eaten anything Oliver?"
     "No."
     "Well you're in luck, I brought extra food and I don't think I'll be able to eat all of this by myself."
     "What is it?"
     "Spaghetti pasta. I hope you aren't allergic to shrimp."
     I reached into my bag and grabbed the pink lunch box placing it on the table.
     "I'm not allergic to shrimp, but I hate olives."
     "Oh I'm sorry but there's olives in this dish, but they're finely chopped so you won't even notice them."
     Oliver let out a tiny chuckle. Awe even his chuckle was adorable and sweet. It was kinda kid like. I slid over the Tupperware with the fork on top  and placed the peach soda in front of him. I watched as mister mysterious opened the soda with his teeth. Impressive, very impressive. I grabbed the tape recorder and cleared my throat to get his attention.
     "Would you mind If I recorded our conversation?"
     "Not at all baby." He said as he shoveled food into his mouth.
     "When was the last time you had an actual good meal?" It was ridiculous how fast he was eating Harrison's portion of food.
     "It's been almost six years since I've had anything really good." I pressed the record button. And go.
     "Can you please tell me your full name?"
     "Oliver Theodore Valentine."
     "Date of birth?"
     "February 14, 1990."
     "Is that a coincidence? Your last name and birthday tie in?"
     "Not at all baby. Can I ask you a question?"
     "Yeah shoot."
     "When is your birthday?"
     "The ninth of August. Oliver?"
     "Yes?"
     "Can you please tell me about the scar that's on your neck?"
     "It was a shaving accident, I was drunk, that's all."
     A part of me wanted to believe him, but something just didn't sit right with me about this.
     "Are you sure it was a shaving accident?"
     "What are you implying Miss.Welsh?"
     "That the scar wasn't from a shaving accident, but a suicide attempt."
     Oliver sat up in his chair clearing his throat. He wiped off his mouth and stared at me. This stare wasn't like the others, it was like a death glare. You put your foot in your mouth this time dummy.
     "You have no clue what you're talking about baby."
     "Are you in denial about your suicide attempt?"
     "No."
     "Why?"
     "Because it wasn't a suicide attempt. It was just an accident, I was completely drunk. I shouldn't have been trying to shave." His voice was void of any emotions.
     His face was like a stonewall. I'm striking out again.. damn it. Oliver took another swig of the peach soda. Think and think fast Diana.
     "Do you have any family Oliver?"
     "Don't we all?" He pushed back his brown locks of hair, flipping it to the side.
     "Well do they visit you?"
     "Not at all."
     "How come? Do you have any siblings?"
     "My mother said I was a complete embarrassment to her and she didn't want to ever see me again, and my father couldn't agree more with her. I'm an only child. My parents only wanted a boy so once I came along, my mother got her uterus taken out."
     Well damn. That's so humiliating and hurtful. I mean this is their child, their baby that they abandoned.
     "I am very sorry to hear that Oliver, that's very unfortunate. Well do you at least have any friends that write or visit you?"
     "Uh I have a friend. He was my best friend but he was more like a brother to me, his name is Marvin Johnson. MJ or just Marv was some of the names or nicknames I would call him. He moved back to Atlanta to be with his mother once I received my sentencing."
     "Does Marvin write, call, or visits you?"
     "Marvin writes me once every week. I've rejected his attempts to try and visit me."
     "How come you don't want Marvin to visit you?"
     "Because it would be entirely too hard to say good-bye to him. Knowing that I can't go with him kills me but to watch him walk out of here is just murderous. Plus Atlanta is a far drive and I wouldn't want him to have to fly. He's afraid of heights."
     Oliver and I both shared a little smile with each other. My heart aches for him, poor thing. I packed the empty Tupperware into the lunchbox and slid across a pack gummy bears to Oliver. His face lit up like a little kids on Christmas.
     "Do you mind if I make myself comfortable?"
     "Go ahead baby."
     I took off my blazer revealing the cream silk blouse and my shoulders. His eyes devoured my chest and every inch of my exposed flesh. He stared at me as if he's seen me naked before. I don't like it one bit. His icy green eyes traveled down my face to my chest and back up. His chest heaved up and down at a slow and steady pace.
     "Have you ever been in love Oliver?"
     "Of course I have."
     "Do you have a preference?"
     "Well isn't it obvious by now? I don't have a preference of what kind of woman I like, you all taste the same to me anyways."
     His honest admission made me blush. His eyes flickered up at me, his cheeks were a rosy shade of pink. I have to get this interview back on track.
     "Does your girlfriend write or visits you?"
     "I don't have a girlfriend."
     "Well do you have a significant other or a fiancé?"
     "I had two fiancés."
     "Well are you still engaged to the second one?"
     "Yes."
     "Does she visit you?"
     "Yes but only in my dreams."
     "Why only in your dreams?"
     "Because she's dead..."
     My hands flew over to cover my mouth. A few tears fell from Oliver's eyes and onto his dark red jumper. I reached into my purse and opened the tiny Kleenex pack and handed him a few tissues.
     "How did she die?"
     "I don't know."
     "Are you being truthful with me?" He shook his head no. At least he's being honest with me.
     "Did you kill her?"
     "Don't you ever fix your mouth to ask me any other bullshit questions like that again. I did not kill her. Next question please." Change of tone when fiancé number two is brought up I wrote down in my notes.
     "What did you do to end up here in prison?"
     "I murdered a man in cold blood."
     Chills went down my spine for the first time since I've been here interviewing him. He did not bat an eyelash when he uttered those words to me. I gulped down on the spit that was in my mouth and inhaled before I asked him the next question.
     "Why did you kill him?"
     "I killed him because he left a young girl to become an orphan."
     "Did you know the young girl?"
     "No."
     "How did you kill him?"
     "I sliced opened his neck with a shank. I had made it a few weeks after I met him."
     "He-"
     "He died instantly. The old fool died thinking we were friends." His calm demeanor is terrifying me.
     "When did you kill him?"
     "Five months after my sentencing." Five months after his sentencing?
     Wait a minute.
     "Why are you really in here then?"
     "For killing that scumbag."
     "No Oliver, what were you on trial for originally?"
     Oliver lowered his eyes to his thighs again. Those green icy glaciers melted into something I had never seen before. The tears spewed out of Oliver's eyes like a running faucet.
     "Oliver what's wrong? Please Oliver, please tell me." I whispered to him. I gently placed my hand on top of his and squeezed it.
     "I can still hear her voice in my head. I, I never meant to- Dana."
     He keep repeating those same words to me. He was visibly shaking badly. I quickly leaned over the table, cradling his face in my hands, shushing him.
     "Oliver, Oliver you have to breath okay? Calm down and breathe." His breathing slowed down as began to listen to me. Much better he's starting to relax and calm down.
     "I want to be here for you. Let me be here for you, please Oliver." His red rimmed eyes instantly locked with mines.
     "She said that to me once."