𝐏𝐒𝐘𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇 (Ash Trilogy #2) ✔️

11

I've gotten so used to the sound of the tiny clock ticking that I could recite the rhythm even a year from now.

The sun that shines through the window feels blinding. It makes me feel like I'm sweating even though the room is air-conditioned and cool.

The collar of my shirt feels too tight. My belt doesn't feel tight enough. I can't remember if I put matching white socks on, or if one of them is grey.  

I feel like I'm struggling to breathe. I look at my reflection in the mirror that's hanging on the wall in front of me. And even though my throat feels like it's closing in on me, and my lungs feel like they're on fire, on the outside, I'm blank. I sit on this couch with no emotion.

This was a mistake.

I should leave.

The traffic feels too loud.

I think a bead of sweat just dripped down my forehead.

"Hello!" the man's voice snaps my head toward him. He carries a coffee and a notebook. His appearance is clean and well put together. "Sorry I'm a few minutes late, Mr....."

He drags out the word while flipping through his papers. He says happily once he finds my name, "Harper. John Harper."

"That's me," I lie, and force a smile.

He walks over to the couch across from me. His hair and beard are a matching brown shade. He appears to be in his mid-thirties, and he crosses his legs while setting his notepad down on his lap.

"So. What brings you to therapy today, John?" he asks me.

I need to learn to stop killing. 

I need to learn how to be normal for Aurora.

I need to know why I'm like this.

I lean forward. My elbows rest on my knees, and his eyebrows lower at my change in demeanor. 

"I experienced something 5 years ago, and I haven't been the same since," I tell him, and my words look like they intrigue him. My mouth hangs open for a moment. "It made me a bad person. But I don't want to be a bad person anymore."

He stares at me for a moment. He sets his pen down.

"What was it that happened?" he questioned.

The smell of chlorine burns my nose. I thought that drinking half a bottle of rum would've dulled my senses, but if anything, they amplified.

I stare at my cup, my vision swaying as I swirl the ice around in it. 

Nothing but emptiness sits inside of me. I feel hollow. Numb. No amount of alcohol or sex is able to make me feel something, no matter how hard I try.

"Found it!" Sophie says happily, shutting the sliding glass door as she steps back out into the backyard. But I don't turn to look at her. I keep looking in front of me, at the pool water. I down the last of the rum in my cup.

Since I don't look at her, she takes slow steps in front of me. Her waist blocks my view of the pool and for a moment, the only noise is from the crickets. 

I move my eyes up to look at her after a few moments. 

She smiles as she looks down at me, and tucks some of her hair behind her ear. I hear something crinkle and know what it is even before she shows me the condom wrapper. 

Boredly, I set my glass down on the table.

"Not in the mood for another round," I say dryly.