Yellow.

Yellow pencils, yellow sun, yellow flowers.

Yellow frames housing pictures of various people.

"Are those people in your family?" Patrick knew the answer would be yes, but figured he'd ask anyways. This being his first legitimate session with Sophie, he needed some sort of 'ice breaker'.

"Yes, those are my nieces and over there is my older brother and my parents and I." She replied, pointing to the pictures as she spoke. "But we aren't here to talk about me, Patrick."

"I know. Curiosity." No significant other. Slightly intimidated by men and their power. Dresses to impress others.

"So talk to me, Patrick. How have you been feeling lately?"

The blonde man shrugged. "I'm managing. Under the given circumstances."

"And what are those?"

He stared at her for a moment. "You know what they are."

"Let's pretend I don't know."

"But you do know, so why pretend?" Patrick knew the ways of psychology. He knew she was trying to get him to talk about what had happened as if that would provide some sense of mental clarity and inspiration.

"Patrick, y-"

"I know, I know. I need to talk about what happened because it's traumatic and devastating and if I don't say it it'll make me go mad." Little too late for that, though.

His blunt response took her aback. Never had she had a patient like this.

"So, if you know you need to talk about it and you know I'm trying to get you to talk about it why not save us both the trouble and just talk about it?"

"We both know about it so why not save us the trouble not talking about it since we both know what happened?"

Sophie blinked blankly at the blonde haired man. Best to move on.

"Tell me about your childhood, Patrick."

Of course. The Freud approach. "I was raised as a carny boy. My father was a con artist and took advantage of my heightened intelligence and insight."

"Did you go to school?"

"No. I didn't."

She wrote down a few things on her notepad.

She's assuming this is why I have troubles with social interaction

"How long did you work as a carny with your father?"

"Up until I was 19."

"What drew you to leave?"

Patrick took a moment, thinking back to that day.

"Angela."

"Your wife?"

The curly haired blonde nodded. Dead wife. He wished to correct her. Dead because of me.

"Tell me about her."

Patrick looked prominently at the yellow patterns in the carpet beneath him, rubbing his thumbs together in his lap.

"Patrick? Can you tell me about Angela?"

Jane shifted his glance from the floor to Sophie's gaze as he spoke, continuing to nervously meddle with his hands in his lap. He spoke as if he selected each word carefully and precisely, speaking slowly like a memory of her popped into his head with each new phrase. "She was...beautiful. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life. She loved to read. When we first met we would just sit and-and read together while our parents did their stupid con artist acts. She had the most beautiful singing voice. Voice of an angel. And when she danced...you knew she was pouring her whole heart into her dancing. She had this blind optimism. In every situation she would find the good things. She taught me to always look for those things...the good things." Patrick wiped a solemn tear from his cheek.

"And what good things have you found from this situation?" Sophie asked, voice soft and concerned.

"I've...ah...I've tried and I, uh..." He took a moment, bringing his hand to his mouth.

"I'm not quite sure what good things could ever be found in this."

"Everyone, please take a seat." Dr. Travis rounded up the patients in the circle of orange chairs as he sat down. One seat remained unfilled. Patrick recalled it to belong to Thomas. Perhaps a similar break down, or oversleeping... he thought. The nurses regulated group session attendance incredibly well, so it was odd.

This was the first time Patrick had been to group since his outburst. He was half expecting to be stared at with confusion, fear, and potentially anger from the other patients. But no such looks occurred.

"First of all, we'd like to welcome Patrick back into our group." Dr. Travis motioned to Patrick from across the circle as the others applauded kindly.

"Next I would like to talk with you all about something." He glanced at the empty chair. "As some of you might have noticed, Thomas is not here today."

"Where is he?" Marvin asked.

"Unfortunately he passed away last night." A sigh and various reactions came from the group. "I am not entitled to explain how or why, but I thought you all should know."

"Did he kill himself?" David asked, cautiously.

The room fell silent.

"C'mon, doc. You can tell us." Marvin prodded.

Dr. Travis slowly nodded his head. "Yes, he did."

A heavy and tense air inundated the room to its entirety. Lisa and Lana cried, Summer had no emotion, and the rest of them were angry or had no reaction.

"This brings me to what I'd like to talk about with you guys today. All of you have dealt with suicidal thoughts and, or, attempts. If you guys don't mind sharing, what are some of those thoughts that bring you to thinking about taking your own life?"

The familiar silence accompanied the eight person circle.

"W...Well..." Lisa quietly began. "I think about how my life really isn't worth living anymore." She paused. "After my son died, I didn't know what to do. I felt lost, alone, like no one understood... I wanted to be with him."

Finally someone who understands.

"What about your husband, Lisa?"

"He deserves someone better than me," she admitted. "He was strong for me and I was weak for him. He needed someone else to be strong for him and I couldn't be that person. He wouldn't have cared."

"Isn't that what most people think, though?" Trevor spoke up. "That if we were gone no one would care?"

Lisa retorted, "It's true."

"No. No it isn't, Lisa. I mean, you think in your head that it is the truth but to someone else it isn't." Trevor looked down at his hands. "In the hospital...the day after I tried to kill myself...my mom was there. She didn't know what to do. She felt so bad and never stopped saying 'I love you, Trevvy. I love you.' I felt so bad. Most people don't think about the other people in their lives. Y'know the ones who have to deal when you're gone. We don't think about that. It's stupid."

"It's not stupid, it's our nature." Marvin added. "Everyone is self centered and egotistical and all we give a flying fuck about is ourselves."

"Language, Marvin."

"Sorry, Dr. T."

Lana quietly raised her hand and spoke once Dr. Travis called upon her.

"When I was in the hospital after my first overdose...I was seventeen. This girl from my school, I never talked to her ever in my life. She came to see me and introduced herself and said I helped her pick up her books once, just once, in the hallway when she dropped them. She said she admired me and was really happy that I was alive. You never know what people you make an impact on, you know?"

The room quickly filled with nodding heads, most in agreement.

"Let's do this exercise." Dr. Travis began. "Let's go around the circle and say what we're looking forward to once we get out of Heritage Oaks. Marvin? Care to start?"

Each patient took their turn, one by one. Marvin looks forward to falling in love. Lisa wants to be a kindergarten teacher. Summer looks forward to going to college. Trevor also was excited at the thought of falling in love. David looked forward to being a good dad to his kids. Lana looked forward to becoming a psychologist.

"What about you, Patrick?"

Jane was taken aback at the quick demand from the doctor. "Me?"

"Yes, you. What do you look forward to?"

He took a moment to think, then replied. "I'm not quite sure yet."

But Patrick knew. He knew exactly what he was looking forward to.

Murdering Red John.