Colors of Therapy

The Boy Who Never Slept

        When I opened my eyes, a new scene greeted me. I sat on a log. The air was cold and windy, yet I could feel heat and scent smoke. In front of me was a fire that kept the air from being too cold. I wasn't too far away from the flames. Isaac sat on a log across from the fire. We both wore our regular clothes. 

        "Not bad..." Isaac admitted, looking around at the surrounding environment. Orange and yellow leaves covered the ground. The sky was a little cloudy, a full moon lighting the forest. The trees were tall and bare. "Just what I wanted," he picked up a bottle of beer. I sighed, shaking my head. "Just like Dante..." I mumbled.

        "There's more than one if you wanna try," he offered.

        "I'm good," I said. He shrugged and took a swig. His eyes darted around, not staying focused on one spot. His hands were trembling, and he tapped his fingers on the log. He seemed restless. "Dante acted so strangely not too long ago. He seemed to be scared."

        "He probably was," Isaac said. He didn't look at me. 

        "But what would he be scared of?" I asked.

        "Ehh... I can't tell you that," Isaac answered. "I don't know how I know this, but this room will be the room for both the date and therapy session... According to the Infinite. Is that what Dante's ability is like? Just having random knowledge?"

        "I also wanted to ask you about that time in the bar..." I mumbled. "You mind telling me what that was all about, now that you have the chance?"

        He looked up. "Oh... That. Right."  He frowned.

        "You looked pretty happy, didn't you?"

        "Yeah, let me clear something up. I thought I did something good. You revealed your role as the therapist, and I knew that I had to kill you. Or so I thought. I can't tell you why I'm not allowed. So I thought that killing the therapist was something very needed. The therapist is bad news, and I was overjoyed to see you dead. But after staying around you long enough, I realized that I was wrong, and you were completely clueless about everything. Sorry... I guess," he explained. "Did that make any sense?"

        I sighed, furrowing my eyebrows. "Kind of? I still don't understand the therapist thing, and why it's bad news, and why I can't know. But it kind of makes sense."

        "So yeah, that's why I killed you. Should we just skip to the therapy part? There isn't much of a date."

        "Okay," I agreed. "So... How many hours of sleep do you usually get?"

        "We're starting now? Well then," he looked uncomfortable. "Not very many. As minimal as possible. I didn't sleep last night. I might sleep this night."

        "Why do you not sleep every night?" I asked.

        "That's a little hard to do," he admitted. "I don't feel like explaining why."

        "Are you feeling all right?" I asked. "I'll just be upfront about this, you don't ever seem calm."

        He turned green. He stood up, backing away. "Now I see why even Dante would be scared."

        "What? That didn't... I really don't know what you're talking about."

        "And you're oblivious to it, too. I can't say anything, but there's a clear problem," he said. "All I can do is hope that we don't die."

        "What?" I asked. "Isaac, please calm down. I don't understand."

        He relaxed a bit, his face softening. "Right." He looked away from me. "That likely scared you."