Her Misanthropy

Get Me?

"Why do you kill?", what the fuck? No Introduction, no questions about my childhood, no stupid word games the psychiatrists always plays? What a prick, this new doctor of mine! Just right off the bat 'Why do you kill?' How intriguing, how daring of him. Not even any questions to build up to that one. I like this new doctor, this son of a bitch. I give this guy my widest smile, he's quick, I bet the same in bed too...

"For the fun of it doc! I find it quite enjoyable watching people's lives slowy and dramatically sink out of them. To hear the blood curdling screams of men, and I'm not being a dominatrix! The cry of women, it's so exhilarating, and hilarious. Especially when these people try and scream during me choking the life out of them. It's like, seriously? Like, why are you even trying to scream then, you can't breathe! It makes no sense, ya get me? " I explain with so much zest. Man, when I describe murdering it is seriously the best feeling ever, it's actually sexy if you look at it my way. Boy how I stir down below after my descriptions. And then, I finish my explanation off with "And because you all fucking deserve it." Oh, that shocked/horrified/puzzled expression was just hilarious. "Ahaha, what's the matter doc, cat got your tongue or something? " I smiled my most charming smile.

"You said 'you all', who exactly is 'you all'? What's your type? In killing I mean." he asked, surprisingly nonchalant. Still, he was so predictable, of course he was going to ask that. Everyone does... and it is starting to really bug me. Gosh how I hate repetition. I mean, shouldn't these shitty-brained doctors know already? SHOULDN'T THE WORLD KNOW?

"The human kind doctor." I say plainly, a little more irritation in my voice then intended. And he just gazed at me for a long time with those annoyingly sparkly dark brown eyes. He looked as if he were trying to figure me out, as if I were a puzzel piece and he was putting it together mentally. I hate being stared at. "What the hell is you looking for doc?" I retort with an icy tone.

"Nothing, it's just your such a peculiar type." He said. What in the actual fuck, now he was really starting to piss me off. Who the fuck is he to tell me I was peculiar.

"First off, don't you ever fucking categorize me you dipshit! I HAVE NO TYPE! Don't ever fucking tell me I'm a peculiar type! No words in the human dictionary can define measshole! Second off, I don't even frickin' know you, you didn't even properly introduce yourself like every other asswipe that tried to rehabilitate me did. Third off, you are so fucking lucky that I'm strapped down to this chair because trust me, we would not be having this conversation right now you son of a bitch!" I yelled. Though I guess I shouldn't be so hard on this man. He was clearly a novice doctor trying to be tough so I can be all like 'WHOA! This doctor ain't playin' no games! I should behave myself!' Also, he seemed pretty young. Mid twenties maybe. African-American guy with a hipster fashion, a nice wavy style to his hair texture, milk chocolate skin. Looked very smooth. Indeed smooth, oh how I long to peel it off of him strip by strip...

"I apologize. I didn't mean to upset you in any way, I too hate labels." He said warmly. Here we go with the 'I too' shit, trying to relate to the patient so the patient can feel more safe and relaxed. And how very ironic, to hate labels, yet have a career in labeling. "And by the way I'm Eli Nwoye. Call me Dr.Nwoye, please." He tells me. So he's Jamaican, cool."Can you forgive me? I can't have an angry first patient." He said not realizing he let slip the fact he's a beginner, and the expression on his face showed his realization. I really do like this new doc of mine, he seems so animated and full of life. Only he's not showing me all of him, he's holding back,..... fucker.

"I forgive you. Dr.E." I say nicely.

"Good. Shall we continue?" He asks, and without even my consent he immediately replies "of course we shall, you forgive me." He said gleaming,.... dickhead. "So, why do you feel as though 'we', as humans deserve a cruel death?"

"Because you all disgust me. With your retarded sense of morality. You all have to add meaning to your lives, like they matter, like defining yourselves and your lifestylewill get you someplace. You'll just end up dead. I'm just doing people the favor of not having to live such a meaningless dissapointment we call life. But tell me something doc, why? Why must we have to define everything?" I challenged.

Dr.Eli was in some zen, thinking of a right way to answer me. That alone was an answer for me, he kind of got me, I guess. "Well, I guess because life would be better that way. I mean, what are we suppose to do? Nothing. Then what? We would have lived for nothing, I guess it is better to actually be doing something." He said, smiling to himself, obviously proud of his response to my question. But I won't lie, it was decent, I'll give him that. Id pat him on the back if I weren't in a straightjacket, strapped down to a chair.

"I suppose." I respond with a develish smile on my face.

"OK. I feel we should start some word association now." He said. Dammit! Here we come with the dumb doctor game I've been through for the umpteenth time or more. "Family."

"Ramsey."

"Love."

"Dove."

"Fun."

"Pun."

"Rat." He said irritably.

"Fat."

"Ms.Nox are you rhyming with me?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. I just flash a develish smile and say in the best 1930s woman impression I can muster "oh, you'll have to forgive me doc. You see, I've grown tired of playing such silly word games." He chuckled. "This will be the first and last time we play the game, I just wanna see the correlation, and find deeper meaning them." He responded. I groan in frustration.

"This may very well be the first and last, because I might just shoot your ass after this session." I say serious as a heart attack. His face then grew pale, an olive complexion. I burst out laughing, right then and their. And Dr.E released a breathe of air he seemed to be holding the whole time. "Relax doc, it was only a joke. Besides I dont wanna kill you, you're actually a bit likeable. For a human of course." I warmly say.

"Thank you, I guess." He beamingly said.

The rest of the session was really just doctor games, a pinch of chit chat, and ordinary "necessary" questions that are suppose to be asked. And I, surprisingly, felt relaxed and I politely obliged to everything.

I'm not liking this effect this doctor is having on me.