NEGLECTED

Chapter Five

KEATON ADLER

Her silence wasn't her trying to make the hour go faster by not talking simply cause she had the right not too, after all this wasn't a session; there was no time bracket. Ffion Brisden's silence was purely a sign that she had something to say, but hadn't figured out what it was yet. 

It is clear her arriving at my work was impulsive, otherwise she'd be talking my ear off right now. Even though she may be not so verbal during our sessions, the sarcastic mouth on her brought me to believe if she wanted to talk, hell she'd talk.  And she wanted to, that much was clear, with her darting eyes and shaky knee, it was almost as if she was battling with herself internally. She wanted to speak, but some part of her that acted as the red devil on her shoulder wasn't allowing her to. 

I'm not used to pushing and pressuring a patient into opening their mouth, it went against what I believe, but Ffion needed the push and if I didn't nudge her she'd continue to sit as the embodiment of a run through cassette tape. Click click, nothing. Click click, nothing. 

Nothing. 

"I thought you worked full days on Wednesdays" I stated rather than questioned, Ffion's eyes rising from the table and latching onto mine. I noticed her scratching the inside bend of her arm, a common recovering addict mannerism. This wasn't a session, but that was certainly going in the book when I left here today. 

"I do. Monday through Friday."

"What happened at work then? Why aren't you there right now?" Ffion didn't answer my questions, simply because as I could tell by the look in her eyes, she had one of her own she was too busy trying to word. 

"Ffion-"

"Am I an empathetic person?" I tried not to let the question take me by surprise just as much as I tried not to let Ffion see the immediate confusion on my face. Her face was scrunched up slightly as if she were in pain. She began scratching her arm harder, her nails marking red raw lines over her skin. The second a single bead of blood appeared I was standing up and walking around over to Ffion who looked to be somewhere else mentally. 

"Ffion, stop scratching" I spoke calmly trying not to alarm her when I crouched down in front of her. 

"Dr-"

"Keaton" I corrected, Ffion snapping out of whatever daze she'd been in, head dropping as she suddenly took me in, kneeling before her. I raised my hand to hers slowly, taking a hold of her wrist and pulling her hand away from her arm. 

I just broke one of my own rules as a psychiatrist. Don't touch a patient for longer then 5 seconds. The moment it hits the 5 second mark it becomes more intimate then a couple second pat, or a hand shake. 

"It's just Keaton" I added, Ffion slowly nodding her head. She intertwined her fingers when I eventually let go of her wrist, her hands back in her lap. I stood back up, taking my seat again before looking across at Ffion who almost looked embarrassed at her little moment she'd had. 

I've seen and had much worse than a short scratching fit. 

"Now, empathy? Why, Ffion?" I asked, watching her blink slowly as she stared off to the side. She inhaled deeply, her chest puffing out slightly before returning back to normal when she breathed it out. 

"My boss thinks I lack empathy, she's not the only one though. My other co-workers keep calling me a psychopath."

psychopath, noun- a person suffering from chronic mental disorder with abnormal or violent social behaviour. 

For those who don't understand the true meaning behind the word psychopath, it may seem like a mediocre insult. Most would push the word aside, thinking nothing of it, but for someone like Ffion who has grown up with mental illness, and disorders, the word, or rather assumption must mean a lot more to her than one would expect.