Behind the Glass Wall

Day 1

Psychopath /ˈsʌɪkəpaθ/

Noun: psychopath; plural noun: psychopaths

A person suffering from chronic mental disorder with abnormal or violent social behaviour.

Synonyms: madman/madwoman, mad person, deranged person, maniac, lunatic, psychotic, sociopath

Informal: an unstable and aggressive person.

Day 1

Rachel stared up at Broadmoor Hospital, her stomach filled with butterflies. Today was that day. After 2 years of studying she was getting thrown into the real world. "It's just for 'experience'!" they'd told her. "It's only for 7 days. You'll be fine!" they'd said. Little did they know merely standing outside the hospital was making her slightly nauseas.

The building's harsh glare made the hair on her arms stand up and every muscle, no every fibre, in her being alert. She shivered once more, the bars on the window stirring feelings in her she normally kept under lock and key. Shaking her head, she tried to rid her mind of the fearful thoughts; wanting her first day of this job (if you could call it that) to be nothing less than perfect. With her heart in her mouth she made her way towards the entrance, praying that just maybe the inside was a little more cordial.

Walking in Rachel was momentarily blinded. Her eyes lost focus as they tried to adjust to the bright light. It was completely white. The floors, the walls, even the uniform! The stench of bleach burned her nostrils with every breath. How welcoming she scoffed. But in reality her heart sank further. She took a deep breath and plastered a smile on her face. The least she could do was be polite.

"Hello dearie!" The woman at the desk beamed at Rachel "You 'ere on a visit?" She shook her head.

"No, no. I'm actually the neurologist Rachel Smith. I'm here to visit Mathew Barrymore in regard to studying the psychotic mind." And just like that the woman's demeanour changed. With narrowed eyes she briskly handed Rachel a brown file and nodded towards a beefy looking guard near the lifts.

"Go to Bob and tell him yer 'ere to visit Mat," she practically hissed. Rachel simply nodded and stalked off to 'Bob', the woman's attitude already having a negative effect on her mood.

Bob was worse to say the least. Never mind speaking to Rachel, he barely even acknowledged her. In fact he just snatched the brown file off her and marched into the lift. Rachel scurried after him, wondering what on earth she could have done to these people for their reaction to be so hostile. On the 4th floor, Bob, again without warning, stomped out of the lift with a flustered Rachel on his tail. He stopped outside the only door on the floor and handed her back the file.

"He's in here," Bob's voice was hoarse with as though he was holding back some sort of emotion. Rachel's eyes flickered to his face but all she was met with was a stoic mask. Sighing, she gave him a grateful nod, thanking him with her eyes. She timidly pushed at the door and was greeted with, no surprise, more white. However this room was different. To her left was a sort of office and to her right some coffee machines. She braced herself and looked forward and sure enough there he was. Mathew Barrymore. With his hands behind his back, he smiled at Rachel as though he was waiting for her the entire time. Rachel's eyes widened as she tried to mask her emotions, but she knew she failed when she saw Mathew's smile widen (if it were possible that is).

"Hello Rachel Smith," this time his smile reached his silver eyes "I'm Mathew Barrymore, but you are already aware of that. You have read my file have you not?" His tone was mocking yet gentle. Rachel was still unsure of what to say.

"Take a seat..." He gestured to the chair in front of the glass wall that separated the two. Rachel stumbled forward, smiling warily at him. His grin widened as she slid into the seat. She fumbled with her bag, searching frantically for her pen and notebook.

"Please..." Mathew leaned forward, "don't be afraid. I'm sure we'll become good friends..." Rachel let out a nervous laugh that echoed around the otherwise silent room. Shivering under Mathew's scrutinizing gaze, she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her shaking hands. Relax Rachel. You've been waiting for this you entire life. Pull yourself together! She mentally scolded herself.

Mathew chuckled at the nervous woman sat before him. She was meant to be the neurologist helping him, but it seemed as though the roles had been reversed. Him, the psychotic murderer, trying to calm a woman's nerves. He never thought he'd see the day. He chuckled again, watching amused as Rachel squirmed in her seat.

"Don't worry, everything is as it has always been. Untouchable and unchangeable. Far from my reach. The cell with its clinical lighting keeps me separated from everyone and myself... keeps everyone safe. Society, the guards and me. But it is good. I must be kept from myself. The last time I had control, I lost it. They decided it will never happen again. Since then I've been here. Powerless and safe..." he smiled up at her paling face. The double meaning behind his words clear. But in reality, Rachel was intrigued, curiosity getting the better of her. She wanted to know everything. With bright eyes she leaned forward, surprising Mathew.

This woman... she'd not runaway yet. Maybe she was different. Maybe she did care. Maybe mother was the only-NO! He stopped himself. He could never trust anyone again, they were all the same. Filthy, treacherous Homo sapiens. Suddenly his face hardened, catching Rachel off guard. She was quick to take note of this sudden change in attitude.

"You just want another story out of me, don't ya? Well I've already told the police everything about me, everything I know. I'm not confessing to nothin'" he was panting now, rocking back and forth violently. Rachel was taken back by his spiteful tone. She was so used to his playful manner, she didn't realise this side of him was so easy to trigger. And just like that he stooped, frozen. With clenched fists, his head slowly raised up, a smile grazing his lips and a slightly dazed look in his eyes. 

"Mathew?" she said cautiously, "Are you okay?" he blinked registering her words.

"Of course, why would you ask me so?" he looked confused, as though his sudden outburst was non-existent. She shook her head, noting down the behaviour of Barrymore 2. She was careful with her next question, not wanting to converse with the undiscovered side of Mathew.

"So... I hear you like doughnuts." The guards outside stiffened at sound of the psycho's laughter. What was that neurologist doing in their?