*Normans POV*
"Mr. Bates, glad you could join us." My therapist, Dr. Vincent says.
"I'm sorry, I was eating lunch and I lost track of time." I say. I wasn't really sorry. I hate these group therapy sessions they make us participate in. They said I needed this to 'boost my social skills', but I already have social skills. Using them is the part I don't like.
"So, who'd like to start us off on what's been bothering you since we met last week?" The doctor asks.
I lean back in my chair, thinking up a way to pass time.
/
Nearly an hour later the session is finally over. I, as usual, didn't participate. I don't want to. I told them I don't want to yet they still make me come.
Why would I possibly want to share my thoughts and feelings with all of those people? Sharing my thoughts with someone is what landed me here in the first place. Well, that along with Lila Crane and Sam Loomis.
I shouldn't blame them though.
Mother says not to place the blame on others when things are quite clearly my fault. I should listen to her more, although my doctor tells me to stop listening to her altogether.
The most depressing part of group therapy is the walk back to my room.
I can't describe the gut-wrenching feeling I get when I pass by all of the patients who don't even know they're in the world.
The wallpaper, the creaky wood floor, the nurses running around everywhere with their needles and medicine carts..it's truthful to say I don't like it here very much. Sometimes if I try hard enough I can pretend I'm walking the floors of my house. I imagine all of the pictures hanging on the walls, the carpet on the stairs, the way the kitchen was decorated... I miss running the motel too. Not really the business as much as my parlor. Oh, how I miss my parlor.
The hours passed in there with my taxidermy, spinning any Beethoven record I wanted with not a care in the world or a soul to tell me what to do.
Here the only somewhat private space I have is my room, which is just a single bed, a nightstand, a desk, and a dresser.
I don't even know why they give us a dresser when we can't wear our own clothes. We have one outfit for during the day and pajamas to sleep in at night, the Fairvale logo stitched bright and bold on both. They make us dress the same in case one of us tries to escape.
We have to take showers in a shower room where we are only covered by a cheap plastic shower curtain.
I can leave my room whenever I'd like unless I've had an incident during the day where they need to put me in confinement.
I can go to the lobby, the cafeteria, the bathroom, the recreation room, and to the backyard, which is quite large but fenced in with guards. Everywhere has security, and the lobby is where the nurse station is so that one has double supervision.
It's not that I intend to do anything wrong, I just don't necessarily like someone watching every move I make.
The recreation room is probably my favorite since I can go play piano or read the newspaper or watch television.
Above all though I'd rather stay in my room. I can be alone in there reading a book, writing in my journal, or just thinking.
No one can invade my thoughts.
Well, no one except Mother.
I can think about whatever I please whenever I please and nobody can try to give me medicine for it.
*Jolene's POV*
There is absolutely nothing better than taking your shoes off after a long day of work. I love my job and all, but it can be so exhausting.
Just today we had three emergencies after lunch, all of them being a patient having a breakdown of some kind.
I've never even been in one of those situations, so three in one day was pretty exhausting for me. Must be something in the water.
I sit on the couch for a moment before deciding I need to start cooking dinner as Richard will be home anytime now.
Let me tell you a little bit about him, since he is the most important person in my life.
We've known each other for near ten years. We've been in a relationship for seven and engaged for two.
We have yet to make any wedding arrangements, but with me just starting a new job it'll have to wait a little while.
It may seem outside the norm for me to be living with him before marriage, but Richard co-owns a real estate company with his father and when this house went up we knew we had to get it.
It was easy to picture ourselves here raising a few children and growing old.
Anyway, back to Richard. I don't even know how to describe him as anything other than incredible. He is charming, handsome, charismatic…he gets along with my friends and wooed my family. He even paid for me to go to school so I could begin my dream job.
We have quite a few differences. Sometimes he says things that make me feel really bad about myself, but at the end of the day, I love him.
My heart belongs to him. I just know we were meant to be. I smile to myself, turning back to the stove.
Not much time passes until I hear the front door open and smile, turning to see Richard walk in.
"Hi Dear, how was work?" I ask as he walks into the kitchen and presses a kiss to my cheek.
"Fantastic, I completed two sales. How was it for you?" I sigh, throwing a dishrag in the sink.
"How much time do you have?" I ask, putting a hand on my hip.
He smiles. "Lunatics, huh?" He jokes, but I frown.
"Richard, you know that's not a nice thing to call them. We've been over this." I scoff, stirring a pot of noodles.
"Well it's not my fault they're crazy. If you love them so much why don't you join them?" He asks, laughing at his question.
I dryly laugh, nodding. "Eventually I probably will."
I don't even notice him get up from the table and head toward the bedroom. "Jo, I'm starving. Could you hurry up a little?" He asks.
"Honey, I can only cook so fast." I reply.
"Oh, I also need you to do some laundry tonight. I might be having to go out of town this weekend." He says, reentering the kitchen in more casual clothes than his work attire, which is a suit and tie.
"Would we be engaged if I didn't know how to do these chores for you?" I ask, half laughing.
"Come on, don't be like that. I work all day to make a living, I don't feel as though it's too much to ask, do you?" He asks.
"What do you think I do all day?" I ask. He leans back, folding his arms across his chest. "You play nurse while I have an actual career." He says smugly.
I nod, turning my back to him to get plates out of the cupboard, blinking a few times to make the tears that are welling up go away. "Dinners ready." I say, forcing a fake smile.
/
I just wanna say thank you so so so much to the person who left that review on my last chapter. It was exactly what I needed to hear, and it made my day. I didn't think anyone actually read this story and I thought it was terrible, so your comment made me so happy, so thank you again. :)