"How was your visit with your sister?" Dwicky asks me, holding a hot mug of coffee in his hands.
"Fine," I say, rubbing my eyes.
"I heard that she brought you your laptop. That was nice of her."
"We both know that she hates me. Can we leave it at that?"
He defensively holds one of his hands up.
"Okay, okay. You're kind of irritable this morning, Dib. Did you sleep all right?" he asks.
I roll my eyes. Every visit is full of these stupid questions. This is a huge waste of my time.
"Yes."
"Any interesting dreams?"
I raise an eyebrow.
"What? Ugh, no. None at all," I quickly reply.
He writes something on his pad of paper. Screw him. I really don't dream that often, especially not last night. That wasn't a dream.
"Uh-huh, you know if you told me about it I could help you through whatever is troubling you. Nightmares are typically warning signs for more serious problems."
"How many times do I have to tell you? I don't want to talk! You never listen to what I have to say anyways. You try to turn what I say into whatever fits your agenda."
"Dib, you're being overly defensive about this. And you clearly haven't taken your medication again."
Great, now he has leverage. Biting the corner of my lip, I lean back in my chair.
"It's all right, I won't tell," he assures. "Just give me something to work with. Is it the visit you had with your sister? You two have never gotten along, have you?"
"No. She's nothing short of cruel. Everyone knows to leave her be or you'll surely suffer for interrupting her precious gaming," I tell him.
"I see. Did she have any friends at school?"
"Friends? No again. She's more antisocial than I am."
"What about on her games?"
"I don't know."
"Did you ever envy her for how contently introverted she was?"
My throat tightens a little as I swallow. I never thought about that before. I can't let that get to me. Dwicky is trying to weaken me. He wants my guard down. Sighing, I watch his pen move across the paper.
"It's all right, Dib. Some of us need more social interactions than others. And this must be where Zim came in."
"No. Gaz r—…" I trail off.
It'd be stupid to mention her remembering Zim. Oh he would jump to call me insane again. He would tell me that I'm just feeding sick fantasies or some bullshit.
"Gaz what?" Dwicky asks.
Looking down at my sweaty palms, I mutter, "R-really, um, she really didn't care. About Zim, I mean."
"That must have devastated you."
Yeah, he wishes. I got her to help stop him and Tak from draining the molten core of the Earth one time. She had to care at least a little to do that.
I remain silent with my gaze down. Hopefully he'll take a hint and let me leave. The sound of pen to paper irritates me. All of these notes he has. What does he even do with them? Write a report? A book? Am I that interesting?
He suddenly says, "You'll have to excuse me, I have another patient to see soon. I'm glad that you've opened up a little. I know that it's hard."
Slowly, I get up and leave. I'd love to dash out through the door, but the guards would grab me. I'm lead to the general day room where all of the other patients are doing useless things like reading, watching TV, etc.
One guy sits at a table with a bunch of cotton balls. I curiously watch as he glues them to his paper.
"Ah man, them fibers are always cloggin' up the glue," he groans, trying to squeeze some onto the paper.
Hmm, clogging. Do locks get clogged? No, no gluing a lock shut would be like putting a rocket on a racecar. But the cotton balls might keep it from shutting properly. While the man walks over to a nurse with his glue, I grab a handful of cotton balls and stuff them into my pockets.
"You're lucky the dumb Earth nurses don't notice you," I hear that awful, familiar voice call from behind me.
"Shut up, phony. I don't care," I groan under my breath.
I head straight for my room with my hands in my pockets.
"Oh, Dib, you always care. Don't you need to stop me? I mean, I put you in here for a reason. There's something big going on out there."
"Your taunting won't work. The real Zim would stupidly reveal his whole plan detail by detail. Vague just isn't his style."
"Fine, I won't tell you then. It'll give you less motivation to leave if you don't know."
Quickly, I dump the cotton balls into my dresser drawer under some pants. Zim lingers in my peripheral vision. I blink and he remains.
"What is it?" I ask, turning around.
"No, Dib-thing, you've made it pretty clear that you don't care. Zim is keeping this one a secret."
"That's stupid. I'll just want to escape more for curiosity's sake."
"Zim is not stupid!"
"No, you're just stupider than him. You're a ghost. Admit it. I caught you."
His little fists ball up. Those fake blue eyes of his glare up at me.
He shouts, "I am an Irken Invader sent here to conquer the human race for the Irken Armada! All of you will be my slaves! Especially you! Maybe you've stood in my way before, but now I've got you right where I want you. No one is on your side. They think you're insane. And you are."
"I'm not insane!" I yell. "I'll stop you. I always have. Maybe no one really ever helps or thanks me, but so what? Saving the world is a thankless job. Someone has to do it."
"You're pathetic, saving those who hate you. It's very funny."
My counterargument dies before it reaches my lips. Finding myself at a loss for words, I drop my gaze and sigh. This imposter has a good point. I did this more as a hobby, but it's become a full time job. Dwicky calls it an obsession. I look back up, but Zim's gone.
"Fucking coward," I scoff, wiping my eyes. "Yeah, leave and haunt another guy."