Written Secrets

He had not been expecting a letter. In the plain office at the mental hospital, the Psych sits, flipping through the pages, severely bothered by what he's reading. Just as he puts it down, she stands at the door. Stares at Psych and smiles as she enters the room.

"How are you feeling today, Ms. Siegerson?"

Her expression turns from coy to bewildered.

"Why is that the only question getting asked around this place?!" she angrily replied.

Lowering herself into the chair, her face softens, the anger fading as quickly as it overcame her.

"So...what's on the agenda today? Wait, I know..." Her tone changes to mocking, yet serious. "You're gonna ask me more questions, take more notes, send me on my way, then write up one of your little reports on how I'm "unfit for society"... she trails off, staring at nothing. "Let's get started, shall we? I hate disturbing you."

He stares at her intently, trying to see beyond her blankness, her sudden lack of emotion. "You think of yourself as an annoyance to me?" he said, only to have her veraciousness come back like a light after a blackout.

"HA! I disturb you, you know, emotionally..." Lydia said, amused, the blankness gone.

"And you believe this, why?" he said.

She takes a second, stares at him again, smiles. "Don't worry, that doesn't offend me. I tend to have that effect, for reasons unbeknownst to me..." she stares out the window, the blankness suddenly coming back.

"You feel like you have this...negative... influence on those around you..."

"Are we really gonna go there today, doc?" she says, interrupting.

He's about to say something, but she keeps talking, unfazed.

"You know I know what you're going to ask...I know what you want to hear... and what you don't enjoy hearing so much..." she takes a moment and smiles at the Psych, the anger waning and arrogance taking its place in her voice.

"Is it true I give you nightmares?"

"Do you want to give me nightmares?" he responds, trying to keep his cool. This question agitates her further.

"WHAT?!" she retorted. Then quickly relaxes, checking herself. "I'm tired of this game." She playfully added.

He tries to stare intently at her, expressionless, but is having a hard time. She intimidates him, making him feel insecure in his position. "Is that what you come and see me for, games?"

"No, I come here because you think you can make your star doctoral dissertation on me... pathetic attempt to convolute my life stories into a crappy version of... some cheap horror movie."

"You compare your life's events to a horror film..."

" no..." she interrupts him again. Lydia is frustrated now, and slightly insulted. "There you go again, see? Are you completely incapable of just holding a normal conversation without spewing lies?" Her face gets stern as she stares at the Psych. She adopts a sinister tone. "Stop annoying me, doc, you know what happens..."

Her cold stare dazzles the Psych for a few moments; he looks baffled as he stares back. Her eyes suddenly awaken, and she laughs. "It amazes me how easy you are!" She smiles and uses stern but joking tone. "You're just killing yourself looking for something that's not there..."

"Seriously, why don't you just give it up already? What would make you stop trying to make me lie?" she continued.

"Why would you think I'd want you to "lie" for me?" he said.

"This is why I hate this... you're a broken record, you know that?" she snapped, clearly aggravated by his questioning.

"Can you please answer my question, Miss Siegerson...?"

"Why don't you just BITE me." she says. He sits there, trying to be stern. It works. She stares at the floor, biting her lip.

"I guess you can see I don't respect you so much." she finally said.

"You don't view me as a "respectable" person..." he's trying to take the conversation back to therapy, but she interrupts, yet again, angrily.

"Who would respect someone who treats them like a lab monkey?"

"That's enough!" he shouts, bewildered, caught off-guard and embarrassed by his reaction. "You may discontinue therapy with me if by all means you render me worthless to your recovery. Try another doctor..."

Lydia stares, clearly amused with herself and the rise she got out of him. "What, and have to start this fantastic rapport with another idiot?"

She was enjoying this. This reaction she had just gotten. Then, suddenly, her smile dropped. She became sullen, blank, numb, and stared directly at the psych.

"What's that on your desk?"

"It's your journal notes. I received them this morning. The police sent them in." He can't believe he hadn't put them away.

"My written secret..." she mumbled.

"You're done now." Without warning, she pounced.