Otis growled furiously as he was thrown into the cell. He couldn't fucking believe he had been caught. How? How had he left enough evidence behind for them to figure it out?
"We'll be back for you in a few minutes. Just try and calm yourself down."
"FUCK YOU!"
"Listen, this is apart of your sentencing agreement. Your victim said that she didn't want you to spend time behind bars if you weren't going to get help. This is a lesser sentence and you are getting help. If not, you'll be in here a hell of a lot longer."
When they came and loaded him in the transportation vehicle, his heart pounded. He would never admit it, but he was terrified. He had no idea what was in store for him, and he feared what would happen if he didn't comply.
The place seemed innocuous enough. They had had the decency to try and hide the fact that it was a mental institution by making it feel welcoming, like a home.
"Come on, buddy. Your session starts in about 15 minutes."
Otis sat across from the doctor, defiance in his eyes and body language. He knew guards were just on the other side of that door, and the room had no windows for him to jump out of.
"Hello, Mr. Driftwood. Pleasure to meet you. I hope I can help you somehow."
"Can help me by takin' them clothes off there, mama." He licked his lips. "Shakin' them titties in my face sure as shit would help me."
She smiled condescendingly. "Mr. Driftwood. Your sexual advances are in vain, I'm afraid. I am more than happy with my wife."
"Ooooh, hell yeah. Two for the price of one. I'm all about that little lady."
"I hope that your attempts of asserting your masculinity are working to make you more comfortable, because they're not getting the reaction out of me you desire."
Otis frowned, leaning back in his seat.
"Now, if I have your attention. You are here for me to help you. For me to help you deal with the trauma that you have experienced that is causing you to lash out in this way. Are you willing to work with me on that?"
He glared.
"Because if you're not, I have the right to hold you here as long as I see fit. Until you have made an improvement in your mental health. Do you understand?"
"Y...You can hold me here as long as you want?" He asked, eyes wide.
"Yes. I do indeed have that power."
He growled. "You fuckin' bitch..."
"If you intend to behave that way, I don't see that any progress will be made and you will be here longer than necessary."
"I don't have to fuckin' tell you NOTHIN'."
"No, you don't. But it would be in your best interest to let me help."
"You little fuckin' bitch...I could just kill you and fuckin' leave."
"Your idle threats are of no use. Isn't it mildly insulting to you that you raped a woman and here I am, a woman, sitting alone in a room with you entirely unbothered? Do you know why that is?"
Otis hesitated, glaring at her.
"Because I am in possession of a loaded weapon, along with guards right outside my door. If anything should happen- you make an attempt at violence toward me, for example, I am perfectly secure in knowing I will be able to defend myself." She uncrossed her legs, settling herself in her chair. "Now, shall we begin?"
No answer, just a defiant, threatening glare.
"Alright, then. So part of this deal was because you admitted to your arresting officers that you had been sexually assaulted as a young man. Now, pathologically this makes sense. Often, young boys who are sexually abused attempt to act out their abuse on their peers to prove to themselves that yes, it really is wrong. I'm guessing that you didn't have that opportunity as a child, so now you are taking advantage of your strength as an adult and taking victims."
"Fuck you, I was fuckin' lyin' about that, you stupid cunt. Just so I could get out of a longer jail sentence."
"No, you weren't then. But you are now. You know how I can tell?"
Otis swallowed heavily.
"Because your body language changed as soon as I brought up the possibility of you being sexually assaulted."
"You don't know anything, bitch!"
"Then why don't you tell me?"
"It's none of your fuckin' business!"
"Isn't it hard, carrying that cross, Otis? Carrying that burden that you've had since you were a little boy? Maybe I can help. Maybe I can carry some of the weight for you. What do you say?"
"I'm not fucking TALKING to you about this!"
"So you were, then."
"What?!"
"You were sexually assaulted as a young boy?"
"N...NO! I..." Fury replaced the confusion on his face. "FUCK YOU!"
"Otis...I can tell you're scared."
"I'm not fuckin' scared of NOTHIN', bitch!"
"It's alright. No one here is going to hurt you."
"I fuckin' said I wasn't scared, what're you stupid?!"
"Has anyone told you how expressive your eyes are?"
"H...Huh?"
"You can say one thing, but your eyes say a different story. They tell me what you're really feeling.
"Fuck you! You don't know me!"
She reached out and gently touched his knee. He flinched, gasping softly in fear. "I don't. But I would love to help you." She settled away from him, watching his features carefully. "Does it bother you that I'm not afraid and you are?"
"...Yes."
"Does it bother you that you just flinched when I touched you?"
"Yes."
"Can you tell me why you flinched?"
"Because I'm cuffed and you can come at me with a gun, woman!"
"Okay. That makes sense. But that's not the real answer, is it?"
"What?"
"That's not the real reason you flinched. It's something deeper than that. Who hurt you?"
Hesitating for a moment, he finally spoke. "Fuckin' Dad and Mom beat me around, leave it alone."
"No, I will not leave it alone. Things in here are going to make you uncomfortable, and that's okay. It's a safe place to discuss things, alright?"
"Fuck you."
"Keep in mind, I have control of your release. It would be in your best interest to be willing to work with me."
Otis nodded. She could see the fight dimming in him slightly. He knew he was trapped. She was in total control, and it unnerved him.
"When did this abuse start?"
"Can't remember when it didn't." He grumbled.
"What is the earliest memory of it you can think of?"
Otis swallowed heavily. "M...Mommy...Hitting me because I-I..."
"Why, Otis? Why was she hitting you?"
"Because I fucking wet the bed, okay!? I was THREE or...or FOUR I...I couldn't help it! I was fucking little!"
"Tell me more about it. What did she say to you?"
"That I was a worthless piece of shit...That she didn't want me anyway and to just sleep in my piss...In the mess I made."
"And what did you do?"
"I slept in it after she beat the hell out of me."
"Can you remember ever receiving any kind of affection from them?"
"No."
"Can you tell me what the worst thing they ever did to you was?"
Otis bristled, glaring up at her from under a sheet of gray hair. "No."
"Alright. We're not there yet. I understand." She pat his knee gently again. He jumped back, almost toppling his chair.
"DON'T FUCKIN' TOUCH ME!"
"It's alright. It's alright. You have an aversion to contact, I see."
"Fuck you I don't care what you call it just don't touch me!"
"Why are you so afraid of touch?"
"I ain't afraid!"
"Otis, I am a woman who is weak in comparison to what you can do, but you flinched as soon as I reached to touch you."
Frantic, panting, he yelled. "You may not be as strong as I am but you can still hurt me!" Regret crossed his features as soon as he spoke.
"I told you I wouldn't hurt you."
"I don't fuckin' trust you!"
"Is there anyone you will let touch you?"
"M...My family..."
"Did you trust them instantly?"
"No..."
"It took you a long time, didn't it?"
He nodded.
"I'll tell you what, if you keep talking to me and cooperating, we'll let you see them. I'm sure they're a great comfort to you."
"What choice do I have?" He asked, sadly.
"I know...You don't have much. But I am willing to reward your cooperation. You are a good man, Otis. You've just been hurt. And I want to help you."
"I...I'm a good man?"
"Yes. I believe you are. I don't believe the person you really are is someone that hurts people."
Otis swallowed heavily. That had been the first time in his life he had heard that.