ROMEO (book 1)

3. ROMEO

My therapist is called Robert. He specialises specifically in individuals, usually criminals, with sociopathic and psychopathic tendencies. He's a criminal psychologist.

I sit on the couch in his office, picking up the tissues. "Romeo." He walks over, "How are you doing?"

"I'm really angry." I start pulling the tissues from the tissue box.

"Why?"

"I don't know. I want to keep hitting things."

He stands up and sits beside me, taking the tissue box off me and looking at my knuckles, "I thought we were going to hit soft things."

"It doesn't feel the same." I pull my hands away, "I got angry when papa woke me up this morning, and when Emilio wasn't reading fast enough."

"He's dyslexic, Romeo. He won't read as fast as you can." He gives me back the tissues.

I start pulling them out again, "I know but he reads too slow. I don't like it." It annoys me.

"Have you spoken to your mom?"

"I don't want her to worry. She always worries." I stress her out too much sometimes. "I'm having different feelings."

"What feelings?"

"I have this disgusting feeling in my chest and stomach, like when you're on a rollercoaster ride and your stomach drops. I've never had that feeling before, it's making me feel overwhelmed." I hate that feeling, it makes me feel nauseous.

He smiles, "Romeo, they're called butterflies."

"Butterflies?"

"Yes. They usually happen when you like someone, or when you're getting nervous." He explains, "Is there a girl in your life recently?"

"There's Delilah. I keep seeing her." I say but that's a lie, "Well i keep changing my routine to see her."

"Why do you want to see her?"

"She kisses me nicely, and she has a nice smile." I run out of tissue.

He opens the drawer in the coffee table and pulls out two more boxes. I start doing the same thing.

"She kisses you nicely? Elaborate."

"She kisses my bottom lip." I touch my bottom lip, "I like that."

"How many times has she kissed you?"

"Twice." I wish it was more. I want to kiss her again. "But she's too good."

"What do you mean by that?"

"She's quiet, she's shy, she laughs at everything, she got nervous when she kissed me and she went slow. She wouldn't like to kiss me again." I know it.

"How does that make you feel?" Robert asks.

"Angry."

"Why angry?"

"Because if i was normal then i could kiss her again."

"Have you tried kissing her again?" He asks.

"No. She volunteers at a thrift store, visits the pet store every friday, works at an ice cream parlour, she feeds the ducks on a Thursday, wears pretty dresses and doesn't like violence. When the car crashed, she cried." I rip the tissues a little harder. "She's nice to everyone. She gives money to homeless people and then goes hungry because she's stupid and gave her money away. She doesn't smoke or drink or fight people. She watches fucking barbie."

He nods his head, scribbling this down, "And how do you view yourself?"

"People call me a devil, Robert. How do you think i view myself?"