Tasting Insanity

Chapter 13

Sunday passed by quicker than i thought. I spent the day at home, watching TV all day in peace. I hadn't seen my dad since the last time i saw him which was when he fed his belt. I took a quick glance at myself in the mirror before leaving the house to go to the prison facility for my session with Carter.

Last night, my boss had sent me an email saying how i should be quicker in proving Carter's sanity and that his behavior and himself won't be a threat to the outside world once released. Apparently, i would have to talk to the judge myself along with Carter and his lawyer only then will he get bail unless of course, i failed at proving his nice-ness. His sanity.

I looked presentable enough, i thought, before covering my bruises yet again with foundation. Grabbing my handbag with the gun inside, i set out to where the Uber was parked.

Was i even suppose to bring this gun with me inside the building? Shit, i could get caught but Carter told me to keep it with me at all costs and since when did i listen to him?

Since he told you your ass was in danger 24/7, that's when. My subconscious reminded me. Sighing, i held my bag tightly scared someone would see the gun, i was overthinking stuff. Several buildings passed, the car finally came to a stop.

-

"You brought the gun here?", He raised his brows in utter amusement once i asked him if bringing the gun here was necessary. "Are you trying to get yourself in here with me?"

"No." I rolled my eyes at his smirk. "You told me to carry the item with me at all times. I assumed 'all times' meant during our sessions too."

"They," He pointed to the door, "Let you walk in here without checking your bag to see if you are carrying any sort of items?"

I nodded, "They can't check my bag. It's against the rules." I started, "Im not visiting, im working here. It's invasion of my privacy if they checked my bag every time i came in here."

Carter looked deep in thoughts before he replied, "Been in any troubles lately?"
I replied with a 'no', obviously lying. Everyday was a trouble for me as long as my father was here.

"Ready to talk about your father?", i asked, remembering the real purpose i was here for. "I haven't been writing your reports lately. You have only one week."

"You have only one week." He corrected, "One week to get me out of here." He was right. My job was ending in a week, this was not a long term thing. My boss had told me i had to get Carter out of here, using my positive reports to prove to the judge that he is sane and is perfectly okay to walk out of this place. Should i fail, he would be stuck in here for the rest of his life with the accusation of two murders sitting on his shoulder plus being painted a psychopath.

I sighed, taking out my notepad and pen, placing it on my lap before looking at him. "Tell me about your father."

He stared at me like he was looking right into my soul. "Tell me about yours."

I looked away from his piercing gaze. "I do not have a father." I didn't consider the man who called himself my father my Father. For me, he was merely my sperm donor.

"Don't lie." his voice was calm. "I wouldn't have asked if i didn't know you have one."

"I am not your client. You are mine." I shook my head, "We are here to talk about you, your mental health. I am meant to help you."

He hummed, "And who helps you?"
His question made me snap my gaze from the white walls to him. "What?"

"You help others." He repeated, "Who helps you?"

"Help with what? I don't need any help." The pages of my notepad looked so interesting in that moment. I was just avoiding his gaze and questions which answers he already knew. God knew i could use help but no one helped me and something told me he knew that otherwise, he wouldn't have asked.

"Liar." His lips quirked up, another smirk forming. "You missed a spot." I raised an eyebrow in confusion at his statement. He sighed, pointing to my neck as my eyes widened in realization before quickly shrugging it off. "Who hurt you?", He asked.

"My bed." I lied, "I fell."

He raised his brows in disbelief, "Your bed has hands?" He clenched his jaw in the process, "These are hand prints."

“Amaryllis.” My name rolled off his tongue, it sounded like a warning. A beautiful one. Could warnings even be beautiful, i thought before his question interrupted my thoughts. “Who hurt you?”

“Someone wanted to steal my bag on my way home from work- the diner.” More lies, “My boss pushed him off but he managed to do this.” I pointed to my neck, ending it with a shrug like it was nothing. My father issues was none of his business and i did not care whether he believed me or not.

His expression told me he did not believe a word i just said but he dropped it anyway which i was thankful for. “Alright. Someone once told me this won’t work if we are not honest with each other.”

“A wise person, im sure.” I bit back a smile to which he shook his head, hiding a smile of his own. “This won’t work if you are not honest with me.” He said, “Im trying to help you.”

“And i have told you i do not need help.” I retorted, looking away from him.

He let out a sigh, “But you need someone to talk to as well. Tell me, do you have a lot of friends?”

“No.” I wasn’t lying. I never made any friends at school given i was too timid and shy for their tastes. High school girls, i sighed at the memories. I considered Carmen and Eliza as my only two friends.

“Do they know you that well?” He asked. I raised an eyebrow at him. “No one knows me that well. Not even you, despite what you think.”

“Do you feel like you can confide in them?”, He asked yet another question.

“No.”

“Then they are not your friends.” He shrugged. “Do you feel like you can confide in me?”

My gaze switched from my notepad to him in a matter of seconds as his eyes bore holes into my skin, finding my soul. The answer to his question was still running in circles in my mind. I felt like yes, i could confide in him but at the same time, part of me disagreed. My mind and heart were at war and my heart was winning. “I don’t know.” 

Surprised flashed in front of his eyes before he replied, “Why not?”

“Enough with the questions.” The smirk on his face told me he already knew the argument going on between my mind and heart. “Im the one who asks the questions here.” I reminded him.