The 5 Steps To Freedom
What? Another update? I'm farting them out like I have a bad case of the runs!
Applause2014: Why thank you!
Curcle: Isaac Newton discovered gravity. Who invented the concept of graffiti, I don't know. But it surely wasn't Isaac Newtown (Imagine someone like him spraypainting in a shady alley)!
Kaylabow: Like I PM'ed you before, no there won't be any Scax. Sorry about that. But their relationship will be spoken about in a future chapter.
Frank15: But Chris has the moo-lah (Which Scarlett didn't get) to buy himself out!
Scorpionking17: I'd rather not have your (Or anyone's) OC in this story. Not only doesn't it fit, but only you (The creator of the OC) knows best how he/she has to function!
Nerdynightstocker: Well, you know Canadians, they're too well behaved to be corrupt like that (According to the stereotype guide at least)! But the law firm's a different story! I already have a sweet connection between them and Chris in mind!
I'm sorry if this chapter looks a bit, dull, but the few events and mentions are very important for the course of the story. So I hope you keep that in mind if you're feeling a bit dissatisfied, but other than that I promise that everything mentioned now and in the previous chapter will be resolved eventually.
I quick warning, I might chance the title of the story as it isn't as fitting as I once thought it was.
I don't like tea, but T is still is the rating for this story.
Chapter 2: Sanity
I looked out of my cell's window. Between the bars and through the thick, murky glass I could see the sky clouding over. It looked like it was going to rain but no one without meteorological equipment could determine whether it indeed was going to. this uncertainty also reflects my current mood.
It has been a few days since the first therapy session, and I spent most of my time thinking about a solution to this conundrum. To get rid of the therapy I have to get rid of the therapist, but I have no idea how. I tried reopening old wounds, but Samey was surprisingly immune for that and this time she'll definitely be prepared for it.
I lightly bang my head on the wall, I feel a little ashamed that I can't find a solution for this problem, I, the daughter of a renowned nuclear engineer and a high-ranking astronautic, can't solve a problem. I'd be the laughing stock of the boarding school I used to attend.
Several suggestion runs through my mind. Should I perhaps go along with the therapy? I considered it for a second but I shook my head in denial. No, I calculated the chances of Samey being randomly assigned and they are just too low for me to trust her. Someone paid that law firm to assign Courtney to me, they can do that to Samey just the same, I am 100 percent positive of that. and if they care about the money, then they can't possibly care about my wellbeing as well.
I sigh deeply and sit down on my bed as I keep on looking for solutions. Qualms and feelings of dread, both of which I haven't felt for quite some time, are washing over me. I'm pulled out of my brainstorm as a warden knocks on the door.
''Neuer.'' The warden calls. I sigh deeply and resolutely stand up. Let's get this over with
I'm cuffed and 2 wardens are guiding me towards the room. On the way, a female imam (That's what you call a Islamic preacher I believe) crosses us carrying some things used for the sermon. They probably used the same room I'm being brought to, a lot of the inmates are religious (With many, that's probably what benefits their craziness) and this prison lacks a chapel for safety reasons. I myself am not religious at all. I stick to the facts.
We enter the room and I'm brought to lay on the lounge chair. Samey was already there, smiling and writing on her papers like our last meeting didn't happen. I wish it indeed didn't. The last few days I've done almost nothing but thinking, close to worrying about how to get rid of Samey and she just sits there! Talk about contrasts! She's either very loyal to her job, or paid to be, which if the latter is true, would confirm my suspicions.
''I'm going to take a slightly different approach today.'' Samey announced as she laid her paper down.
''Go ahead.'' I responded as I kept on staring to the asbestos ceiling panels. As I said that, I noticed that I eased down a little.
Samey got a clipboard and a pen. ''How was your childhood?'' She asked.
Great, she's going through all my stages of life.
''Pretty average I'd say. I got all the love from my parents I needed.'' I answered. Samey raises an eyebrow and shoots a suspicious glare at me as if she knows that I was lying.
My parents were mostly working, they still are. Mom has only visited me once this year, her excuse being that she was transferred to Cape Canaveral to work at the NASA launch site. Because they were away so often, I was stuck at home with a bothersome older brother and a nanny. Wasn't I happy when I was enrolled into boarding school. I haven't seen dad in all these years I've been locked up in here. I think he's ashamed of me. Well, if he doesn't want to be my father anymore, good riddance.
''Did you have any violent tendencies?'' Samey inquired, pointing her pencil at me.
''No recurring tendencies.'' I should be careful of what I answer right now, before I know it I'll get the psychopath label unjustly for a second time.
''And what do you mean by that?'' Samey kept on asking a little confused.
''Sometimes having a fight with my older brother, but that's about it.'' I explained.
''The same brother that got scared to death by the RC toys you programmed to attack him?'' Samey asked for clarification. I turn my head and glare at her, did she had to bring that up? The confessionals of Total Drama weren't as confidential as they were made out to be. I wish I never stepped into it.
''Yes.'' I replied darkly. I never use violence to get back at someone, mostly because I'm not strong. I usually humiliate or scare the wits out of them as means of revenge. They don't have to know it was me, seeing the results are satisfying enough.
''Alright.'' Samey mumbled, sounding and looking as if she was a little intimidated. ''Did you kill small animals for fun?'' Samey asked after quickly regaining her bright posture.
''No. I dissected a few frogs during science classes at best.'' I uninterestedly answered.
''Did you have bedwetting issues as a child and preteen?'' Samey continued right after I answered. Bedwetting issues? Killing of small animals? She's checking if I possessed the Macdonald Triad, a collection of trait that hints sociopathic behavior in a child, which might eventually lead into becoming psychopathic. If she asks about setting things on fire, then I'll have the confirmation I need.
''Don't be embarrassed, this stays between you and me!'' Samey assured me after I remained quiet for a few seconds. I quietly snorted, this stays between you, me and every magazine interested in the juicy details of our therapy.
''No.''
''Did you had the urge to set things on fire?'' Samey conclusively asked.
''Again, no.'' I boringly answered. She's checking it, didn't I think so?
''Let's get back to the present. How is life in here?''
''I eat, I dispose of bodily waste to say it politely, I sleep, and eventually, I die. like your life, but mine is forcibly confined to a few hundreds of square meters I have to share with other inmates.'' I numbly replied, a feeble attempt to make her feel bad.
''Aha.'' Samey nodded, my answer didn't bother her in any way as she wrote down something on her clipboard. ''Speaking of which, how are the other inmates?''
I pull myself upright and face her while sitting on the lounge chair. ''In the cell to my left is a deranged mother who cannibalized her own children and possibly wants to eat my heart out, and in the cell to my right we have a women called Crazy Eyes who cackles crazily and bangs on the wall all day. And when we meet in the shower, we get a little intimate...'' I formulated, I paused when I saw Samey smile a little brighter, I cock my head slightly as I wonder if she thought what I think she thought. ''…Against my will.'' I added, and I saw her cringe in reply. [1]
Yes, she thought it. No matter how much she matured, she's still a little naïve. Good.
''So to be brief, I'm literally stuck between psychopaths. '' I concluded as I rubbed my nails a little.
''Yes.'' Samey mumbled as she again nodded her head and tried to write something on her clipboard, but her pen malfunctioned and she duck into her briefcase to get another. After having put several things from the briefcase on the table, I noticed a business card laying about and I inconspicuously took it.
'Samantha DeSorrento, psychologist. Practice located at 1560 Fallwind Drive. Hamilton.' Based on their surname and the suspicion that Samey lives in or near Hamilton, which has a large amount of citizens with Italian origins, Samey (And Amy for that matter) have Italian roots. Hmm, never really expected that. Both my parents have Austrian blood, my mother additionally having Irish's, hence her and my reddish hair. It's very stereotypical, but it's true. I quickly hide the card in the between my shoe and my heel (Where I often hide small things), I might just need it later on. Samey got up and looked at me.
''And do you in any way relate to these 'psychopaths'?''
I subtly glared at her as I honestly was a little offended by even the implication that I was like the other inmates. But then I got an idea.
I shouldn't make Samey angry, Samey should believe that she made me angry! And now is the best time.
''Are you insinuating that I'm one of them?''I hissed at her as I violently shoot up and stomp towards Samey, she stands up and slowly walks back with her hand reaching into her jacket to keep it on the panic button while stretching out another arm to me as a defense reflex. She's paying attention, now I only have to convince her that I'm offended beyond control.
''No, I-'' Samey tried to retort. I could physically harm her, but I don't think that that'd be good for my reputation, so I instead grab her suitcase of the ground and violently throw it in her direction. This was the final straw for Samey and she rapidly pressed the panic button a few times. As expected, several guards came storming in and slammed me into the wall to cuff me and to take me away. I glanced over to Samey 1 last time before I was taken out of the room and I saw her looking at the mess I made, greatly irritated.
This hopefully has been the last time we've met, this escape plan was a bit too desperate for my liking. I just hope I didn't execute it too well because that might make me a true psychopath in her eyes.
This chapter was harder to write than it appears to be!
[1] A subtle reference to the TV series Orange Is The New Black, where Crazy eyes is a inmate who...Well, to keep it T rated, likes getting intimate too.
I hope you liked it despite what I said in the other author note!
Until next update!
;:J,
L.W.