Author's Note: YAY! another chapter and it didn't take several month's to complete. Congratulate me! :-P More Schreber this time and even part of this is told through Jim's POV.
I would also like to add that chapters 1-5 was written while listening to Evanescence's "My Immortal" and 6&7 (This one) was written to "My Immortal" and also Bush's "Letting The Cables Sleep". If you can nab your hands on either song, in My own opinion, it really helps to get the feeling of which I'm trying to write. On "Letting The Cables Sleep", if you can find the "Nightmare On Wax" remix, do so.
And now, on to the fic!
------
Schreber looked at the stacks of papers that cluttered the office as he walked in through the door and sighed. His work was piling up, he knew, and he was incapable of keeping up with it in his current state. The severity of the recent cold weather was taking it's toll on his limbs and authritis was setting in at an early age, and he was having more difficulty than ever to move about. Even when he kept his office warm it shot pain through him to walk on his bad leg. Muchless when it was freezing, as it was now.
Schreber placed his coat on the coat rack and limped towards the rat cage that rested on a little table of it's own and looked through the glass at the little white rat that was standing on it's hind legs, sniffling the air, his whiskers twitching. It was his way of saying hello, Schreber knew, and it brought a small smile to his lips. He also knew the little rat must be cold, so, sighing, he straightened up and limped to the heater dial and turned it until he heard it clank on. Really, he thought as he limped to his couch and eased down, wincing at the pops and cracks his bones issued due to the effort, the only reason he kept any heat in here at all is so his beloved rodent wouldn't freeze to death. And HE was the Doctor?. It was almost an amusing thought.
Almost.
He, himself, had became accustomed to the cold. Something inside of him snapped to it. Maybe it was his heart, his soul (if he had one) or maybe he was just growing stupid. Or a mixture of all three rolled into one. But in any cause, he preferred the cold, and had ever since he had last spied Trinity out his window. She had looked up and seen his face through the glass of his window and the look she had given him...
Had frozen him to the bone. He could feel all the warmth in him drain from his body as he watched her pretty face contort into an expression of anger and hate before escaping the view of his window. With it had went all his hope, happiness...Everything but that one feeling he had finally analyzed as love. It still burned in him as hot as ever, perhaps even more. In turn, it also ached. Worse than any of his wounds ever could and at times he had to stop what he was doing and just cry. What had happened? Why hadn't he went to her and told her? Why hadn't he explained to her he didn't just leave her alone? Because she wouldn't believe him? Yes, of course. But there was something else that fought all his actions of trying to go to her and explain. Something that was even more mysterious than the feeling that pounded in his heart right now. Like a vague shape in the darkness you can just barely make out no matter how hard you concentrate on it.
A paper fell from his desk and the sound of it's departure was the only sound in the room aside from his breathing. His eyes darted to where it was falling and watched it as it arched back and forth and finally eased down onto the wood floor. His work was piling up. Who would have ever thought that would be his troubles, with so few patients.
Schreber jumped, a pain causing action, as a knock came to the door. He had a visitor? but who on Earth would want to visit HIM? And it wasn't like he had any patients to call on him in his office....Unless...
A knot formed it's self in his stomach as he eyed the door. Could it be that the very girl he was just musing over was there? But why though? Perhaps to continue her sessions? Could her longing to know who and what she was make her forget that he had seemingly hurt her? Just act like that entire scene at the pool house never happened?
Was he getting a second chance?
Knuckles met the hard wood of the door again and Schreber managed to croak out a "Come in" as he struggled to his feet. He watched anxiously as the door opened wider. A mixture of disappointment and relief fell on him the instant he saw the square jawed, tanned skinned face of his friend John Murdoch come into view. He played his usual smile onto his lips and limped towards the taller man.
"Ah - Mr. Mur--John. What Brings - you here on a - day like - this?" Schreber asked pleasantly as he extended his hand in greeting. Murdoch took it and shook it firmly, but being sure to watch how hard he gripped the blonde's hand.
"Oh, I was sitting on My couch one today and suddenly a thought came to my mind. I haven't paid a visit to My good friend Doctor Daniel Schreber for a while, and I'm sure with this nasty weather, your about primed for a visit". Schreber laughed, a forced act, as he limped to the liquor stand and poured the man a brandy. He himself felt he would be sick if he tried to eat or drink anything at the moment. His stomach kept squirming and writhing like a pit of snakes. It had started ever since Trinity had took the heat from his body with her glare.
"So, how's the weather been treating you?" Murdoch asked as he accepted the drink and sat down. He winced as Schreber sat down, again his bones and joint's popping and making odd noises as though they as in a rock band. "Not to good, huh?" He asked with a bit of sarcasm in his voice after Schreber was fully seated. The two men laughed again and began to exchange polite conversation about the time of day, the weather, the price of eggs on Avenue G. So on and what not. As they talked, the weather outside took a quick and pleasant turn and the clouds began to break up. In a few minutes time, the sun was shining brightly and the clouds was moving on in a pleasant breeze.
It was only after they entered a pause as Murdoch drank his Brandy and Schreber's tongue had decided to rest that Murdoch noticed how shabby the Blonde's office had become. Paper was stacked on his desk and the floor was in need out tidying up. This was unusual for Schreber who kept his living areas very clean. It was one thing he admired about the man, his cleanliness whereas other people in his shape would hire a maid. Also, there was something in the Doctor's eyes that was not there the last time he was here. Or rather, there was something missing.
"Daniel?" Murdoch asked as he span the glass thoughtfully in his strong hand.
"Yes?" Schreber replied, raising an eyebrow above the rim of his wire framed glasses in question.
"What's wrong?". That was the one question that Schreber was not prepared for and he sat there, staring at the taller man for a second, his brain trying to process the question.
"What do - you - mean?" He finally managed to say after a seconds thought. Murdoch sighed.
"Look around you, Daniel. Your office is a mess, you have paper stacked roof-high on your desk that I'm pretty sure is work, and you yourself are not acting the same. What's the matter?" Murdoch repeated. Daniel sighed. He wasn't aware that it was so obvious. Still, he did not answer the question. His eyes ventured out the window and watched as several clouds floated by in the rather rare blue sky. It was a beautiful day outside, now, and he could hear the laughing of children in the street below. The perfect day to be out in.
Murdoch sighed. Once Daniel made his mind up on something, it was damned hard to get it out of his head. In some ways it was a good thing. John Murdoch doubted very much if the city would have been what it is now, or even if the Strangers would be gone if it had not been for the Psychiatrist's bullheadedness. But in other ways, it could also lead to the Blonde's undoing, and he for one could not simply stand by and watch him do so.
"Daniel, I'm not just going to sit here and watch you deteriorate. And I'm not going to stop hounding you until you tell me what's the matter. Hell, I may even have Anna come over and help me out! Now, which way do you want it, the easy way where you tell me what's the matter with you, or the hard way where I bug the living shit out of you. Your choice" he said while he looked into Schreber's face. Schreber looked into the man's large blue eyes for a moment then sighed. He knew the man was right, but where would he start? How could he start? He barely was able to address the problem to himself, much less form it into words and hope that Murdoch would understand. Schreber's brain buzzed like an electrical line for a moment, many different ways of telling the story of the past few months shooting through his mind. He closed his eyes, trying to sort them all out.
The sound of a little girl's laughter from outside floated into the window. The girl had a strong and beautiful voice and would make a wonderful singer some day if she chose to do so...
And then Schreber knew. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, locking eyes with Murdoch.
"Trinity"
A loud ripping sound issued as her hand shot out from under the pillow and her body lunged up like a coiled snake that had been struck. The knife cut through nothing but the sweet smelling but cold morning air in front of her as her lungs filled and emptied rappidly with ragged breath, her chest heaving against the covers that clung to it. A few seconds latter Trinity sighed as consciousness brought her sense to her and she dropped back down onto her pillow. As she did so, a storm of white feathers shot up about her head and began floating down onto her face. Trinity watched them for a few seconds, confused, then held up her right hand which still held the knife she had been clinging to in her sleep.
"Damn it" she muttered. This was the fourth pillow and really, the cost of the damned things was getting to be irritating. Rising again she turned backwards and looked at the mutilated pillow. The knife had tore right through the material and it's stuffing was spilling out all over the place. Growling, she put her feet on the floor and rose, her back popping and creaking. Her old wounds was acting up somewhat due to the bloody cold weather and she wasn't the least bit happy about it. Rising, she walked towards the chestofdrawers and looked at herself in the mirror that she had fixed on top of it. Her eyes were somewhat bloodshot, her hair in messy locks that looked like a band of rats had spent the night in it, and sweat was running down her forehead, despite the cold morning air. On her bare right shoulder an old scar ran from the top down to the side of her breast, and on down her hip was a vertical pale streak. Her right side, where her rib cage had once been showing bore several dark blue scars and some red places where the wrinkles in her sheet had imprinted themselves onto her pale skin. An ever so faint line ran vertically down from just below the cleft of her breasts to her pelvis where she obviously had been opened up for surgery. What kind, she didn't know, and what inside of her she was missing was a mystery to her.
Amazingly enough, she could stand to look at all these scars for as long as she wanted. Her eyes, on the other hand...
They was the only part of her that betrayed the feelings that tormented her soul. She could contort her face into any expression she wanted, any sign of pity or anger, but still her eyes shone with heartbreak. She didn't know why she still felt the pits-of-snakes feeling inside her belly, or why every time she heard the name "Daniel" in a public place her heart gave a piratical painful 'thud' against her ribs. Because...She still loved him perhaps? Was what she felt even considered love? She had read book after book lately, any kind she could get her hands on, and in most their was always two people, a man and woman, who at first started off as friends (in most anyhow) and then began to have their feelings grow into fondness, and from that stage into something more. Something beautiful that always seemed to save the two. Through thick and thin, evil and bliss, that feeling always remained. And the name they had given it was 'Love'. But it seemed to her that her feelings hurt ore than they felt blissful. For her, this was a pain that at points brought her to tears. If this was indeed love, for her part anyway, then Cupid (the little baby angel that a few stories had called the Bringer of Love) was one sadistic little bastard.
A clock in the room struck 6 and Trinity jumped as she was brought back to reality. Six...There was something about Six-thirity today that...
"SHIIIIT!" The platinum haired girl wailed and stormed into the bathroom. This Monday and every Monday Jim and her had breakfast! How could she have slept late? She got to bed at a fairly decent hour last night so why had she required more sleep last night? And, more so, why did she still feel like her body did not have enough rest? It was as though she had been awake all of last night or something.
As she watched toothpaste begin to foam at the corners of her mouth, her mind went back to the very thing that had woke her up this morning. And just about every other morning as well. It was always the same and yet always different, she thought as she spit into the porcelain skink and reloaded her toothbrush. Last night, it had been a taller shadow she was chasing, and it had slammed up against a chain link fence. She was pretty sure there was sand beneath her boots last night, whereas Friday night she had been chasing a much shorter figure into a dark ally. One thing, however remained the same. At the end, she'd bring her hands to her face and they'd be dripping with freshly shed blood that was not her own.
She looked into the reflection of her pale green eyes, her face now dripping wet with water, a soap sud clinging to her bangs. What's going on in there, she wondered as she looked deeper into her reflection's eyes. What's going on inside you? You've changed somehow and I don't know in what way. But, somehow, I have a feeling this has nothing to do with the snakes. I think this is far from that problem...And perhaps much more fatal.
"I'm loosing my bloody mind" she said abruptly as she shook her head violently and walked from the bathroom.
Sighing, he decided to just stop taking notes as all it did was waste paper. The man that now weighed down the couch was talking about nothing but food, as he allways did at their sessions. He would not be surprised if the man masturbated to the thought of food. Why in the name of all the suns in the star system he had taken this case on, he had no idea. Aside from that of trying to get this man over his hang up on food. When had first heard of Mr. Lynnord Richardson from another Psychiatrist, he had laughed, thinking his friend was over-exaggerateing the matter. Now he laughed at himself for doing so. This morning was the worst. The man had called him at the ungodly hour of 4:30AM to call an emergency session because had turned down a large meal at Dennys and was wondering if he was going crazy.
He ran a hand through his curly hair and looked at his watch. Trinity was supposed to be here at 6:30 and it was now 6:22. She should be here any moment, knowing her habit of always being early. He had a feeling it had something to do with the obviously violent life she had led before she had lost her memory. But, whichever, it was a good habit.
A knock issued on the door just as Lynnord was launching into a long debate about whether baby back ribs or pot roast would be better for the morning's second breakfast. The fat man made a grunting sound and looked at the door though piggy eyes.
"I didn't know you was expecting anybody" he said in a somewhat high voice. Trinity emerged through the door a few moments latter, her hair in a pony tail and her long bangs slicked back with hair gel. He couldn't help but note that she looked rather professional without those gray locks of hair hanging in her face.
"Hello Doctor Caldwell, How are..." she trailed off as she saw the large man on the couch. Screwing up her face in a confused manor she muttered in a faint British accent she had developed after a session previouse and intence sessuib, which had brought him to the conclusion she was at least part British.
"Who the bloody hell are you?".
"I BEG your pardon?" Lynnord said in an offended tone that would usually be associated with an extremely wealthy person.
"Oh yeah!" Trinity exclaimed, realization dawning on her face, "I know who you are. What the hell you doing here at this hour? Don't tell Me you drug the poor man out of bed to discuss food".
"I. Well. I. I. I." Lynnord stuttered for few moments then found his tongue, "I beg your pardon, young lady, but the Doctor and I was having a important discussion. Please go away" he said and flapped his meaty hand at her. Trinity broke out in a dry, humorless laugh that brought out more of her accent for a few seconds.
"Bloody hell, you think I'm some bobby you can just order around? Jesus. Look at you! you don't need a psychiatrist, you need a liposuction surgeon!". At this the mammoth of a man jumped to his feet in a surprising surge of agility and looked at Trinity as though she was the Devil in human skin.
"Excuse Me-"
"Oh no" Trinity broke in as she walked behind him and forcefully pushed him towards the still open door with one arm, "Excuse *ME*. Now, be a good boy and run along. Excuse Me again, I mean go back to the sea and suck on mommy whale's tit for a while. Bye now. Don't let the door hit ya where good lord split ya!" And with that, she slammed door in a very disgruntled Lynnord Richardson's face. His proclaims of finding out who she was and suing her to no end for verbal abuse could be heard through the entire building as he made his way to the door. Turning, Trinity's pale green eyes landing on him.
"Doc, you should learn to say 'no' " she stated flatly as she took a seat in front of his desk. Jim laughed politely and looked her over for a moment. She looked the same as always; hard shelled, thoughtful, and in the deepest depths of her eyes, heartbroken. He still could not pin the the cause of such a deep feeling that resided in her eyes constantly, but it troubled him. He had a feeling, however, that it had something to do wit her previous doctor, of whose name she had never told him, and he had never asked. He made a point to do so in the near future.
"Perhaps I should. The man called Me at four-thirity this morning because he had decided not to take a large meal at Dennys and thought he was going, as you would say, wonkers" he grinned at Trinity's 'humph' of laughter. "Speaking of which, where should we dine today?". Trinity shrugged in her seat as her eyes ventured to the gray light that was easing in through the window, the same light of which was slightly reflected in the gel on her hair.
"Well then, how about I select this time?". Trinity grinned in a way he felt she should trademark as it suited her very well.
"Yes, please, do" she replied. He rose and walked to a coat rack and took a long dark beige trench coat.
"Come along, I'll decide on the way" he said as he slid the article of clothing on his shoulders. Trinity rose and bowed her head as he opened the door for her and followed her out.
They decided on Dennys ("ha! how Ironic" Trinity exclaimed). Much to the platinum haired girls dislike, he had ordered for her. She was perfectly capable of ordering for herself, she had said, eyes somehwat narrowing. He kindly reminded her that she was also perfectly capable of starving herself when she knew he was buying. And he intended for her to get every bit of nutrition she could for the day. She would need it. As he chewed on his club Sandwich he remembered thoughtfully of the time her shirt had slid up accidentally while she lay on his couch and he could have counted every rib on her body. She had been practically starving. How on earth her clothes looked like they fit when they was several sizes baggy for her he didn't know, but she was very good at hiding things.
"Eat" he politely commanded, "you'll need your strength for this afternoon". Trinity nodded and dug into one of the 4 things he had ordered for her.
"Your right, as always, Doc" she sighed as she swallowed. Her face turned thoughtful for a few seconds then said before slicing off a piece of steak and popping it into her mouth.
"Hypnoses takes a lot of energy" .
I would also like to add that chapters 1-5 was written while listening to Evanescence's "My Immortal" and 6&7 (This one) was written to "My Immortal" and also Bush's "Letting The Cables Sleep". If you can nab your hands on either song, in My own opinion, it really helps to get the feeling of which I'm trying to write. On "Letting The Cables Sleep", if you can find the "Nightmare On Wax" remix, do so.
And now, on to the fic!
------
Schreber looked at the stacks of papers that cluttered the office as he walked in through the door and sighed. His work was piling up, he knew, and he was incapable of keeping up with it in his current state. The severity of the recent cold weather was taking it's toll on his limbs and authritis was setting in at an early age, and he was having more difficulty than ever to move about. Even when he kept his office warm it shot pain through him to walk on his bad leg. Muchless when it was freezing, as it was now.
Schreber placed his coat on the coat rack and limped towards the rat cage that rested on a little table of it's own and looked through the glass at the little white rat that was standing on it's hind legs, sniffling the air, his whiskers twitching. It was his way of saying hello, Schreber knew, and it brought a small smile to his lips. He also knew the little rat must be cold, so, sighing, he straightened up and limped to the heater dial and turned it until he heard it clank on. Really, he thought as he limped to his couch and eased down, wincing at the pops and cracks his bones issued due to the effort, the only reason he kept any heat in here at all is so his beloved rodent wouldn't freeze to death. And HE was the Doctor?. It was almost an amusing thought.
Almost.
He, himself, had became accustomed to the cold. Something inside of him snapped to it. Maybe it was his heart, his soul (if he had one) or maybe he was just growing stupid. Or a mixture of all three rolled into one. But in any cause, he preferred the cold, and had ever since he had last spied Trinity out his window. She had looked up and seen his face through the glass of his window and the look she had given him...
Had frozen him to the bone. He could feel all the warmth in him drain from his body as he watched her pretty face contort into an expression of anger and hate before escaping the view of his window. With it had went all his hope, happiness...Everything but that one feeling he had finally analyzed as love. It still burned in him as hot as ever, perhaps even more. In turn, it also ached. Worse than any of his wounds ever could and at times he had to stop what he was doing and just cry. What had happened? Why hadn't he went to her and told her? Why hadn't he explained to her he didn't just leave her alone? Because she wouldn't believe him? Yes, of course. But there was something else that fought all his actions of trying to go to her and explain. Something that was even more mysterious than the feeling that pounded in his heart right now. Like a vague shape in the darkness you can just barely make out no matter how hard you concentrate on it.
A paper fell from his desk and the sound of it's departure was the only sound in the room aside from his breathing. His eyes darted to where it was falling and watched it as it arched back and forth and finally eased down onto the wood floor. His work was piling up. Who would have ever thought that would be his troubles, with so few patients.
Schreber jumped, a pain causing action, as a knock came to the door. He had a visitor? but who on Earth would want to visit HIM? And it wasn't like he had any patients to call on him in his office....Unless...
A knot formed it's self in his stomach as he eyed the door. Could it be that the very girl he was just musing over was there? But why though? Perhaps to continue her sessions? Could her longing to know who and what she was make her forget that he had seemingly hurt her? Just act like that entire scene at the pool house never happened?
Was he getting a second chance?
Knuckles met the hard wood of the door again and Schreber managed to croak out a "Come in" as he struggled to his feet. He watched anxiously as the door opened wider. A mixture of disappointment and relief fell on him the instant he saw the square jawed, tanned skinned face of his friend John Murdoch come into view. He played his usual smile onto his lips and limped towards the taller man.
"Ah - Mr. Mur--John. What Brings - you here on a - day like - this?" Schreber asked pleasantly as he extended his hand in greeting. Murdoch took it and shook it firmly, but being sure to watch how hard he gripped the blonde's hand.
"Oh, I was sitting on My couch one today and suddenly a thought came to my mind. I haven't paid a visit to My good friend Doctor Daniel Schreber for a while, and I'm sure with this nasty weather, your about primed for a visit". Schreber laughed, a forced act, as he limped to the liquor stand and poured the man a brandy. He himself felt he would be sick if he tried to eat or drink anything at the moment. His stomach kept squirming and writhing like a pit of snakes. It had started ever since Trinity had took the heat from his body with her glare.
"So, how's the weather been treating you?" Murdoch asked as he accepted the drink and sat down. He winced as Schreber sat down, again his bones and joint's popping and making odd noises as though they as in a rock band. "Not to good, huh?" He asked with a bit of sarcasm in his voice after Schreber was fully seated. The two men laughed again and began to exchange polite conversation about the time of day, the weather, the price of eggs on Avenue G. So on and what not. As they talked, the weather outside took a quick and pleasant turn and the clouds began to break up. In a few minutes time, the sun was shining brightly and the clouds was moving on in a pleasant breeze.
It was only after they entered a pause as Murdoch drank his Brandy and Schreber's tongue had decided to rest that Murdoch noticed how shabby the Blonde's office had become. Paper was stacked on his desk and the floor was in need out tidying up. This was unusual for Schreber who kept his living areas very clean. It was one thing he admired about the man, his cleanliness whereas other people in his shape would hire a maid. Also, there was something in the Doctor's eyes that was not there the last time he was here. Or rather, there was something missing.
"Daniel?" Murdoch asked as he span the glass thoughtfully in his strong hand.
"Yes?" Schreber replied, raising an eyebrow above the rim of his wire framed glasses in question.
"What's wrong?". That was the one question that Schreber was not prepared for and he sat there, staring at the taller man for a second, his brain trying to process the question.
"What do - you - mean?" He finally managed to say after a seconds thought. Murdoch sighed.
"Look around you, Daniel. Your office is a mess, you have paper stacked roof-high on your desk that I'm pretty sure is work, and you yourself are not acting the same. What's the matter?" Murdoch repeated. Daniel sighed. He wasn't aware that it was so obvious. Still, he did not answer the question. His eyes ventured out the window and watched as several clouds floated by in the rather rare blue sky. It was a beautiful day outside, now, and he could hear the laughing of children in the street below. The perfect day to be out in.
Murdoch sighed. Once Daniel made his mind up on something, it was damned hard to get it out of his head. In some ways it was a good thing. John Murdoch doubted very much if the city would have been what it is now, or even if the Strangers would be gone if it had not been for the Psychiatrist's bullheadedness. But in other ways, it could also lead to the Blonde's undoing, and he for one could not simply stand by and watch him do so.
"Daniel, I'm not just going to sit here and watch you deteriorate. And I'm not going to stop hounding you until you tell me what's the matter. Hell, I may even have Anna come over and help me out! Now, which way do you want it, the easy way where you tell me what's the matter with you, or the hard way where I bug the living shit out of you. Your choice" he said while he looked into Schreber's face. Schreber looked into the man's large blue eyes for a moment then sighed. He knew the man was right, but where would he start? How could he start? He barely was able to address the problem to himself, much less form it into words and hope that Murdoch would understand. Schreber's brain buzzed like an electrical line for a moment, many different ways of telling the story of the past few months shooting through his mind. He closed his eyes, trying to sort them all out.
The sound of a little girl's laughter from outside floated into the window. The girl had a strong and beautiful voice and would make a wonderful singer some day if she chose to do so...
And then Schreber knew. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, locking eyes with Murdoch.
"Trinity"
A loud ripping sound issued as her hand shot out from under the pillow and her body lunged up like a coiled snake that had been struck. The knife cut through nothing but the sweet smelling but cold morning air in front of her as her lungs filled and emptied rappidly with ragged breath, her chest heaving against the covers that clung to it. A few seconds latter Trinity sighed as consciousness brought her sense to her and she dropped back down onto her pillow. As she did so, a storm of white feathers shot up about her head and began floating down onto her face. Trinity watched them for a few seconds, confused, then held up her right hand which still held the knife she had been clinging to in her sleep.
"Damn it" she muttered. This was the fourth pillow and really, the cost of the damned things was getting to be irritating. Rising again she turned backwards and looked at the mutilated pillow. The knife had tore right through the material and it's stuffing was spilling out all over the place. Growling, she put her feet on the floor and rose, her back popping and creaking. Her old wounds was acting up somewhat due to the bloody cold weather and she wasn't the least bit happy about it. Rising, she walked towards the chestofdrawers and looked at herself in the mirror that she had fixed on top of it. Her eyes were somewhat bloodshot, her hair in messy locks that looked like a band of rats had spent the night in it, and sweat was running down her forehead, despite the cold morning air. On her bare right shoulder an old scar ran from the top down to the side of her breast, and on down her hip was a vertical pale streak. Her right side, where her rib cage had once been showing bore several dark blue scars and some red places where the wrinkles in her sheet had imprinted themselves onto her pale skin. An ever so faint line ran vertically down from just below the cleft of her breasts to her pelvis where she obviously had been opened up for surgery. What kind, she didn't know, and what inside of her she was missing was a mystery to her.
Amazingly enough, she could stand to look at all these scars for as long as she wanted. Her eyes, on the other hand...
They was the only part of her that betrayed the feelings that tormented her soul. She could contort her face into any expression she wanted, any sign of pity or anger, but still her eyes shone with heartbreak. She didn't know why she still felt the pits-of-snakes feeling inside her belly, or why every time she heard the name "Daniel" in a public place her heart gave a piratical painful 'thud' against her ribs. Because...She still loved him perhaps? Was what she felt even considered love? She had read book after book lately, any kind she could get her hands on, and in most their was always two people, a man and woman, who at first started off as friends (in most anyhow) and then began to have their feelings grow into fondness, and from that stage into something more. Something beautiful that always seemed to save the two. Through thick and thin, evil and bliss, that feeling always remained. And the name they had given it was 'Love'. But it seemed to her that her feelings hurt ore than they felt blissful. For her, this was a pain that at points brought her to tears. If this was indeed love, for her part anyway, then Cupid (the little baby angel that a few stories had called the Bringer of Love) was one sadistic little bastard.
A clock in the room struck 6 and Trinity jumped as she was brought back to reality. Six...There was something about Six-thirity today that...
"SHIIIIT!" The platinum haired girl wailed and stormed into the bathroom. This Monday and every Monday Jim and her had breakfast! How could she have slept late? She got to bed at a fairly decent hour last night so why had she required more sleep last night? And, more so, why did she still feel like her body did not have enough rest? It was as though she had been awake all of last night or something.
As she watched toothpaste begin to foam at the corners of her mouth, her mind went back to the very thing that had woke her up this morning. And just about every other morning as well. It was always the same and yet always different, she thought as she spit into the porcelain skink and reloaded her toothbrush. Last night, it had been a taller shadow she was chasing, and it had slammed up against a chain link fence. She was pretty sure there was sand beneath her boots last night, whereas Friday night she had been chasing a much shorter figure into a dark ally. One thing, however remained the same. At the end, she'd bring her hands to her face and they'd be dripping with freshly shed blood that was not her own.
She looked into the reflection of her pale green eyes, her face now dripping wet with water, a soap sud clinging to her bangs. What's going on in there, she wondered as she looked deeper into her reflection's eyes. What's going on inside you? You've changed somehow and I don't know in what way. But, somehow, I have a feeling this has nothing to do with the snakes. I think this is far from that problem...And perhaps much more fatal.
"I'm loosing my bloody mind" she said abruptly as she shook her head violently and walked from the bathroom.
Sighing, he decided to just stop taking notes as all it did was waste paper. The man that now weighed down the couch was talking about nothing but food, as he allways did at their sessions. He would not be surprised if the man masturbated to the thought of food. Why in the name of all the suns in the star system he had taken this case on, he had no idea. Aside from that of trying to get this man over his hang up on food. When had first heard of Mr. Lynnord Richardson from another Psychiatrist, he had laughed, thinking his friend was over-exaggerateing the matter. Now he laughed at himself for doing so. This morning was the worst. The man had called him at the ungodly hour of 4:30AM to call an emergency session because had turned down a large meal at Dennys and was wondering if he was going crazy.
He ran a hand through his curly hair and looked at his watch. Trinity was supposed to be here at 6:30 and it was now 6:22. She should be here any moment, knowing her habit of always being early. He had a feeling it had something to do with the obviously violent life she had led before she had lost her memory. But, whichever, it was a good habit.
A knock issued on the door just as Lynnord was launching into a long debate about whether baby back ribs or pot roast would be better for the morning's second breakfast. The fat man made a grunting sound and looked at the door though piggy eyes.
"I didn't know you was expecting anybody" he said in a somewhat high voice. Trinity emerged through the door a few moments latter, her hair in a pony tail and her long bangs slicked back with hair gel. He couldn't help but note that she looked rather professional without those gray locks of hair hanging in her face.
"Hello Doctor Caldwell, How are..." she trailed off as she saw the large man on the couch. Screwing up her face in a confused manor she muttered in a faint British accent she had developed after a session previouse and intence sessuib, which had brought him to the conclusion she was at least part British.
"Who the bloody hell are you?".
"I BEG your pardon?" Lynnord said in an offended tone that would usually be associated with an extremely wealthy person.
"Oh yeah!" Trinity exclaimed, realization dawning on her face, "I know who you are. What the hell you doing here at this hour? Don't tell Me you drug the poor man out of bed to discuss food".
"I. Well. I. I. I." Lynnord stuttered for few moments then found his tongue, "I beg your pardon, young lady, but the Doctor and I was having a important discussion. Please go away" he said and flapped his meaty hand at her. Trinity broke out in a dry, humorless laugh that brought out more of her accent for a few seconds.
"Bloody hell, you think I'm some bobby you can just order around? Jesus. Look at you! you don't need a psychiatrist, you need a liposuction surgeon!". At this the mammoth of a man jumped to his feet in a surprising surge of agility and looked at Trinity as though she was the Devil in human skin.
"Excuse Me-"
"Oh no" Trinity broke in as she walked behind him and forcefully pushed him towards the still open door with one arm, "Excuse *ME*. Now, be a good boy and run along. Excuse Me again, I mean go back to the sea and suck on mommy whale's tit for a while. Bye now. Don't let the door hit ya where good lord split ya!" And with that, she slammed door in a very disgruntled Lynnord Richardson's face. His proclaims of finding out who she was and suing her to no end for verbal abuse could be heard through the entire building as he made his way to the door. Turning, Trinity's pale green eyes landing on him.
"Doc, you should learn to say 'no' " she stated flatly as she took a seat in front of his desk. Jim laughed politely and looked her over for a moment. She looked the same as always; hard shelled, thoughtful, and in the deepest depths of her eyes, heartbroken. He still could not pin the the cause of such a deep feeling that resided in her eyes constantly, but it troubled him. He had a feeling, however, that it had something to do wit her previous doctor, of whose name she had never told him, and he had never asked. He made a point to do so in the near future.
"Perhaps I should. The man called Me at four-thirity this morning because he had decided not to take a large meal at Dennys and thought he was going, as you would say, wonkers" he grinned at Trinity's 'humph' of laughter. "Speaking of which, where should we dine today?". Trinity shrugged in her seat as her eyes ventured to the gray light that was easing in through the window, the same light of which was slightly reflected in the gel on her hair.
"Well then, how about I select this time?". Trinity grinned in a way he felt she should trademark as it suited her very well.
"Yes, please, do" she replied. He rose and walked to a coat rack and took a long dark beige trench coat.
"Come along, I'll decide on the way" he said as he slid the article of clothing on his shoulders. Trinity rose and bowed her head as he opened the door for her and followed her out.
They decided on Dennys ("ha! how Ironic" Trinity exclaimed). Much to the platinum haired girls dislike, he had ordered for her. She was perfectly capable of ordering for herself, she had said, eyes somehwat narrowing. He kindly reminded her that she was also perfectly capable of starving herself when she knew he was buying. And he intended for her to get every bit of nutrition she could for the day. She would need it. As he chewed on his club Sandwich he remembered thoughtfully of the time her shirt had slid up accidentally while she lay on his couch and he could have counted every rib on her body. She had been practically starving. How on earth her clothes looked like they fit when they was several sizes baggy for her he didn't know, but she was very good at hiding things.
"Eat" he politely commanded, "you'll need your strength for this afternoon". Trinity nodded and dug into one of the 4 things he had ordered for her.
"Your right, as always, Doc" she sighed as she swallowed. Her face turned thoughtful for a few seconds then said before slicing off a piece of steak and popping it into her mouth.
"Hypnoses takes a lot of energy" .