I woke up, gasping for air.

"It was just a dream!" – I frustratingly shouted to myself. Tired of having the same nightmare, repeating like an old record.

I regained my breath, sat up and let my eyes focus in the dark room that was very poorly lit by a small emergency light. The same damn walls. The same damn door. And the same damn uncomfortable and solid bed. This cell was getting to me more and more the longer I stayed here.

I ran my fingers through my hair, clearing my mind. Leaning against the wall my bed was attached to, I tried to guesstimate what time it is. The Asylum couldn't afford a clock in here, it was corrupt. The staff treat each patient like we're all criminals of the same level. I've seen innocent sick people get a syringe to the leg to 'calm them down'. If they were any more calm, they'd be in a box underground already. Luckily for them they only have a few straight jackets so they're not used as often on them. As for people like me, they take any chance they get. Most of them anyway. My 1:1 security guard was pretty cool. He didn't agree with how most of the staff behave. Don't get me wrong, he's put me in a straight jacket before. He just had good reason.

My train of thought was soon interrupted when the blinding lights turned on, making the white walls glow. I heard the jingle of keys from the hall just outside my cell. I knew it was Nick, my guard. He was in charge of transporting me. He and his two trainee security guards would have to escort me through the halls if I'm scheduled for appointments or break times. I'd do my best to not cause trouble for him. We respected each other. He was there to look after me, not make my life hell.

The key jingles stopped just outside my door. I was told to place my hands through the slot in the door he had just opened up. Doing as I was told, he placed leather cuffs on me. They were just a precaution. The guards are carrying weapons and even though I'm considered a "well-behaved patient", the asylum couldn't take the risk.

I stepped away from the door a little as they opened it. Its hinges groaning from the weight the metal door forced on them. Nick held his arm out, signalling me to leave the room and take the lead down the hall.

"We're going up to room 32 in the east wing. You have a new doctor." – Nick informed me. He seemed happy to let me know. My past doctor was useless and just encouraged my... let's just call them episodes.

"Oh I hope they're better than that pathetic excuse of a human being." I stated, half begging. We walked through the now brightly lit halls and up three flights of stairs before we got to the room. I tried peeking through the glass panel to check out my new doctor but the door was opened and nearly smacked me in the face as I was trying to peer in. I was brought over to a chair and was sadly met with an empty room. My restraints were removed and I was free to take a seat.

Nick ushered his apprentices out of the room as he let me know the doctor will be with me in a moment and then left the room himself, locking the door and standing outside while his trainees left to deal with other patients as usual.

I scanned the desk. It seemed the new Doctor was all ready for this session as she had all her note books, files about me and some extra knick-knacks scattered about in neat piles. I leaned over and took a glance at the sheet that had my info on it. It was just basic information, nothing I hadn't already seen or heard from the doctors. What I was more interested in was the name it was assigned to.

Dr. S. Dimon

The door clicked open as the person in question walked through the door, causing me to fly back into my chair before I got caught. My attempts seemed to be in vein though as when she walked over to the desk, I could see some amusement in her smile.

She's beautiful. Long red hair, held up by a hair tie, Ray-ban styled thick rimmed glasses, bright green eyes and a look of innocence and curiosity. She's very young. Must be in her early to mid twenties. Either she was the top of her class in college or 'daddy' made some dirty deals.

"Hello, I am Dr. Dimon. I'm your new doctor, you can call me Sharla." – She said with a friendly smile, holding out her hand. I was taken aback by her introducing herself with first names. Doctors here tend to shut you out as much as possible. They're like robots, no emotion. This one is different. She's new.

"Hi"- I said a little stunned. "...Well you know who I am by now haha." I said goofily, shaking her hand. I hoped she wouldn't see me blushing. I liked this doctor. I didn't want to scare her off by letting her know I find her attractive. The last thing I need is another douche of a doctor.

"I do indeed. I've studied you long before I started working here. Unlike most doctors I'm sure you've come across, I actually know a lot about you Miss Akerman." – She spoke while sorting out more files on her desk before sitting down and bringing her eyes back to look at me.

"Oh... I'm not the same person anymore... I'm never the same person... I mean it isn't me you've been reading about..." I let her know, ashamed of my past. I looked at my hands, finding them more interesting than ever as I could feel her eyes boring into me, watching for my reactions.

"I know about your personality disorder, Miss Akerma"-

"-Please, call me Alex. If I can call you Sharla, you don't need to call me by my last name either. We're equals here." – I told her, getting sick of people only referring to me as 'Akerman' or 'Miss'. I just wanted normal, human conversations for once.

The fact that I cut her off seemed to have startled her a little. She must think I'm just like everyone else here. Insane and unpredictable... Well... I am, I guess... But that hasn't happened for a long time...

I was snapped out of my thoughts as she carried on with her sentence anyway. "Alex, I know about your personality changes. I know that you can't control it or what happens during it. I know she takes over. But that's why I'm here, right?" She spoke softly, never showing a hint of doubt.

She pulled out a note pad for herself and passed me one too. Handing me a pen, she told me to open a page and to write the date after telling me said information. No doctor has let me write before. It would usually be drawing. Not that I disliked that. It's just a nice change, it made me curious.

"We're going to have these note pads every session. You have the option to use it or not use it or to even draw in it. It's yours for the hour, make it your own." She started. "Now, I want us to start with getting to know each other. I believe therapists are too unwilling to treat their patients like humans. I want to take turns in asking questions. Some might seem silly and pointless and others might be hard to answer. Just know that there's no pressure and if you don't have any questions to ask me, that's fine. Afterwards, we can tell each other anything we think we ought to know about each other."

I nodded, finding this all very relaxing and actually interesting. I feel like this doctor might actually be able to help me. No doctor has taken the time to get to know me before. This is the closest thing to an actual conversation I've had since I've been here, minus Nick and I's little chats in the halls.

"Okay, I'll go first." She stated. "How have you been feeling since you got here?" She asked, watching me over her glasses, being sure to catch any kind of reaction I give her.

"Well... At first I was confused... I couldn't remember how I got here... But now I'm just frustrated... I'm dealing with it, I guess." I answered. "I don't know if this is confidential but... Am I your first patient... Y'know, outside of education and training I mean."

It took her a while to reply. She seemed to be contemplating something. "I... Yes. You're my first real patient." She said a little too confidently towards the end. Like I would take advantage of knowing she's in-experienced. "Do you tend to have many dreams? If so, is there anything you'd like to talk about?"

I wasn't sure whether to tell her about my nightmares. This could be a step backwards from getting out of here. She must have noticed me struggling as she cleared her throat and was about to speak when I blurted out "I've had one dream." She nodded for me to go on. "Uhmn... It's nothing really... Just about how I got here... I keep remembering small parts of it, I guess it's just playing on my mind."

She scribbled down some notes and carried on with the questions. This went on for about twenty five minutes until I heard her digital watch beep. "Okay, we have time for one more question, is there anything else you'd like to know?" she asked. There was one question I kept to myself for a while and figured I didn't want to risk never seeing her again and never knowing.

"Why did you choose me? To study?" As silence filled the room, she sat there pondering her answer.

"Your case had already interested me when I was told no one was able to diagnose your personality changes. It interested me even more when I found out you were only fourteen years old when you committed your first murder and that people claimed you had 'too much strength for your size.' Even a few years later, you're not much taller. But yet you threw a grown man into a-"

"-I KNOW WHAT I DID." I cut her off angrily. I didn't want to hear about this. That wasn't me. I shouldn't be dragged through this because of something I didn't do.

She seemed to have realised she struck a nerve during her speech. "Oh, I'm sorry... I got a little off track..." She said quietly, I could hear the guilt in her voice. "Well, that was the end of our session. You'll be here three times a week." She stated gently, getting up and pressing the buzzer on the desk to let Nick know he can come in.

I stayed quiet and didn't make eye contact as Nick put the restraints back on me and lead me out of the room and back to my cell. I know I'm here because of her. And the only way to deal with her is through me. It just isn't fair. I didn't ask for this.

Yes you did.