Psychotherapy || HS

Seven

HELLINGLY ASYLUM

Maximum Security Ward for the Criminally Insane

SESSION SIX

 

After spending over a month evaluating the mind of Harry Styles, I'd found myself utterly afraid to go to sleep. It wasn't that I was afraid of Harry himself, but rather what he'd done and could do to me if he wanted. He said it himself, if he wanted me dead, he would've already killed me. But with the thought of jade green eyes hovering over my frail body once the fighting became too hard and the tears started to wrap around my neck in a neverending choking sensation, I couldn't dare fall asleep.

Studies show you can die from lack of sleep, but coffee and power naps must've been enough for my body to survive for the time being. Because when Harry Styles was to be either released or die, I could live off of the suffering of knowing a person like him lived. An interesting character, he truly is. I didn't bring him the cocaine I'd not promised if his therapy session with his family went well, but he said the request more of a benefit towards me. As if snorting it off of me would be a benefit for me. I mean, I know he wasn't serious, but still.

I've also grown to over think in the time I've been with him. I've learned to watch his every move, even when I knew he wasn't reaching to kill me. And that's maybe what scares me; the fact that he could get up, pull down the painting he managed to get into my office, and crack my head open with it without my knowledge. The fact that I trusted a patient not to kill was also frightening. I didn't feel the need to have guards come, nor did I feel like my life was in danger around Harry. It felt somewhat safer.

And when he entered the room for our sixth session, his hair was damp and falling long on his shoulders from lack of a haircut. The guards let him go at the door like I'd asked them to from now on and shut the door behind him. Harry seemed to absorb the new form of trust while he wandered around the room, walking over to my desk. He then picked up my purse, but I wasn't afraid of him stealing anything valuable. He took the last pack of cigarettes I had along with a lighter.

His eyes ghosted over to me, almost asking for permission and I nodded. "Well, my cocaine?"

"Harry, I wasn't seriously going to bring you cocaine."

"Well, I was hoping for it. You could not disappoint me for once."

"I disappoint you?"

He smiled. "Nah, Soph. I was just messing with you. I really would like that cocaine, though. It's been a few years." I shook my head while he took a seat and lit the cigarette. The smoke spread throughout the room and his lips seemed to grow darker in color with each puff. "So, what's today's conversation, doc? Wanna know about my golden Jane?" He became angry as soon as he made his own joke, then sighed and returned to his bright eyes. I'd changed my mind on Haldol for the time being, because I didn't want him to suddenly close up on me.

"Well, I brought some board games. Helps with brain stimuli, you know?"

His eyebrows scrunched in question. "When was the last time you've slept, Soph?"

"A few days. I have coffee and s-"

"Get some sleep. Why aren't you sleeping?" He rose from his seat and walked over to me. His long legs took big strides and he was standing in front of me in a matter of seconds. "Tell me."

"Because I think about you."

"Oh?" A smirk. A fucking smirk.

"Not like that!" I defended. "I mean, not like that. It's just-I think about what you've done, what you can do, and what you might do. And it scares me shitless. I lie awake thinking that maybe those things can happen to me, and my trust in you as a patient is growing into fear. And I'm not sure if it's fear of you, or fear of what you promised you could do if you wanted to. I don't know." He parted his lips and touched his tongue to his back tooth before looking into my eyes.

Years of pain and regret seemed to flash through them for a few seconds before determination substituted. "I wouldn't hurt you, Soph. That I can promise. I don't break my promises. A killer never breaks his promise, trust me." It wasn't until our session was over and board game pieces scattered the floor in anger-my anger-did I realize what I'd done. I'd reversed the roles. I was Harry's bug, and he was observing me once again. I was the patient, and he was the psychologist. Maybe Harry isn't as crazy as I am.

My walk through the halls of Hellingly was speeding up, afraid that Harry would be behind me and try to talk to me. It wouldn't be that I wouldn't want to talk to him, but the simple fact that I was still afraid of him. He managed to master manipulation with enticing looks and overall great presentation of himself. A full on actor, or maybe he was just good at not being what I expected. Either way, I definitely wasn't going to survive another month or more with Harry Styles. But it would be worth dying over.

I caught the eyes of James Bing talking with another nurse on my way out. He trailed his hand up her arm, and I knew the softness of the pads of his fingertips by heart. Causing a slight chill to run down even the toughest people's spines. It hurt to know he had such an effect with a man of such poor morals. I recognized the nurse to be one of the very few to distribute the medications in the morning. "And if you do this for me," his soft voice lingered in her hair, just enough for me to hear through the wall, "I'll make sure you get through college without anyone knowing why you got this job. Okay?" James was a man of many lies, but sleeping with nurses? That's a whole new low.

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james is a horny bastard...

shortest chapter ever, i swear, bc i took a lot out bc i didn't like it

anyway, i love u, have a great day ♥