A/N: Oh boy…it's been a very, very, very long time. I'm terribly sorry; and I don't even have a good reason for this. So, I'm not going to sit here and bullshit you about how I've been trying to work on this chapter. Cause I haven't. And I'm not going to tell you that I had horrendous writer's block. Cause I didn't. I know perfectly well where this story is headed; I'm just too damn lazy to be a better updater to all of you. Just do me a favor and review because in return I may work harder to crank out these lame ass chapters. WOO.
Disclaimer: No I don't own it. But I do own Jack, Kellen, Zeek, and other characters that you may not recognize.
Chapter 10: The Clock Just Keeps Moving Faster
"Hello Dallas." Dr. Reid greeted me formally and stiffly when I walked into her oh-so familiar ugly shade of yellow office. The color resembled the pages of an ancient book that would fall to ugly yellow ashes at a human's touch; and I hated it.
"Humph." I answered her simply sitting down in a really comfortable maroon cushioned chair (the only comfortable thing about this entire god forsaken place).
I wasn't really up to spilling my guts to her today; I mean I haven't talked to her since before my absolutely enlightening visit to the isolation boxes, or my splendid encounter with Zeek in the shower room. So she would definitely want to grill me about what had caused me and Kellen to "viciously beat an innocent security guard" in the words of Zeek. And just yesterday Mikey came to see me for the first time in God knows when, I won't act like that didn't throw me off guard.
"You don't seem like yourself today. Do you have something you want to talk to me about before we go on with your normal session?"
Her sense of perception is incredible! I thought to myself sarcastically. But there actually was one thing that I needed to bring up that would make her feel like I was still the normal Dallas Winston she was used to.
"Doc I'm proposing that Hillside invests in calendars. So that some people know when it's their birthday and there're ready when someone that they weren't exactly ready to see comes to talk to them." I was leaned forward hands laced together on my lap, very professional like.
"And would that some people happen to be you Dallas?" She asked putting her perfectly manicured hand under her chin looking at me with those evergreen eyes.
"Uh……no. I went around and asked all the guys and they all agreed with me." I beamed at my quick thinking, ah the cleverness of me.
"Oh, well that's interesting because I have written down in your file that you had a visitor June 14th and that happens to be yesterday. Did you want to talk about it at all? You seemed like it didn't go so well." She honestly looked interested in what I had to say, but what was there to tell her? She doesn't really fucking care and I knew that, it's in her job description.
"Don't wanna talk about it." I was aware that I was being a pain in the ass but that's my job, to make other peoples jobs more difficult.
"Dallas you can't keep these things inside it really helps to tell someone, trust me."
Trust her? Is she kidding me!? Whatever I tell her goes on a record and if I happen to say the wrong thing at the wrong time I'll be shipped off to a place far worse than here… "Nope, I really don't wanna talk about it Doc." I insisted crossing my arms over my chest.
"Dallas………" There was a hint of warning in the way she said my name; a hint to me that we could still do this the easy way…or the hard way. And I've learned everything the hard way around here so far so I caved in.
"Okay fine. I saw an old friend and I heard about how I fucked up everyone's lives with my one mistake and how everything's gone to shit now that I'm gone." I said nonchalantly waving it off like I really didn't care. She didn't say a word in response. Not a click of a pen, a bat of an eyelash, or a scratch of a pencil.
"Yea, I didn't think you'd want to hear about it. My life isn't all too interesting and I'm sure you don't want to hear my life story so can I just leave now Doc? I ain't feeling too swell and I got enough going on in my life right now. I just need some time to think by myself."
"No Dallas you can't leave early. We still have 35 minutes and we need to talk about you and Kellen, and your week in the isolation wing."
"Let's not and say we did." I got up about to walk out of the room.
"Dallas!! Sit back down now!!" She wasn't angry she just had her strict façade going on. She never did get angry; even with me. And I kind of have a knack for being…oh how do they say it again? 'The straw that broke the camels back'?
"Fiiiiiiine, what do you want to know? I'm an open book, but only the summary version is available at the moment."
"I want to be able to understand why you and Kellen beat Zeek Folmer."
"You'll never understand, no one will okay?!" My voice was angrier than the sarcastic tone from before. I didn't want to talk about it, I didn't want her to know, I didn't want anyone to know, and that's how it was going to stay as long as I was living.
"Did he hurt you Dallas? I need to know. If he did we can get you help." She kept pushing and pushing for me to answer. I felt the pressure building inside me, slowly but surely. "Did he touch you?"
And as the words tumbled out of her precious cherry red lips something in me snapped. Whether it was neurological related or psychological related didn't matter; all I knew is that something inside me wasn't right and I would never be the same again. Not even ten…twenty years from now, nope…no chance in hell would I ever get over the crushing feeling of having my childhood ripped away from me in the blink of an eye. I would never forgive the son-of-a-bitch that stole my naivety. And I'll never forget the feeling of un-worthiness and worthlessness that will always surround my poor little cranium.
"NO!! What more do you want me to say? I've put up with your goddamn fucking questions for a year now, and I've never lost control, I never avoided them I always gave you straight answers. Just let this one fucking question go………please." Though I was fuming that last word came out in a plea. A silent plea to her to let me keep the one last scrap of sanity I had for myself; without it being laid out on a gurney ripped open with surgical tools and inspected to see what makes the clock tick.
With that I left, no one seemed to care that our session wasn't over. The security guard was there to walk me back to my cell. I wasn't aware of my surroundings and I didn't even realize that I was laying down on my bunk, my sense of how long I had been there ceased to exist. I could just about feel the numbness slowly coating itself over my mind. At the time I welcomed it; anything was better than my own personal…almost intimate thoughts. But I should have known as soon as the paint brush layered the coats of Novocain on, one by one; I would fall off the edge of the Earth and no one would be there to save me.
A/N: Okay hope you liked it. It felt kinda different for me I think I added more detail…which is never a horrible thing to do. Please I'd really appreciate it if you told me your opinions and perhaps give me some tips. Review please.