Talk to Me [The Mentalist]

2

The show was over at least. The last point had been to give an interview about the investigation concerning Red John, a serial killer. After killing someone, always women, he leaves a sign at the wall: a smiley face drawn with the victim's blood. The eyes and the smiling mouth have blood streams running down. It somehow looks like if the face was crying and smiling the same time. I had seen the last crime scene and by the thought of it I had to suppress a shiver running down my spine. It was always the first thing visible when someone arrived at the crime scene.

The after show party was not much more interesting than the show itself. In the show I at least could talk about something and act out my psychic skills. The skills themself were great, but combined with my observation skills I could tell people just what they wanted to hear. I didn't care if I told them the truth or not. In this business you can earn a lot of money, all you need to do is tell your clients what they want to hear. The souls can't speak up either, so nobody can possibly notice if I am lying, too.

I had stated about Red John that he was a little and tormented man, ugly, lonely and sad. The souls of those who hed called would have told me. In fact I had neither met him or his victim's souls, they had never spoken to me. Neither the one I had seen as a dead body nor of those the files I had read. They were always too shocked I suppose; too filled with pain and fear. Sadly I can't force them to talk. Neither can I force souls to be silent. At times it can get really annoying not being able to control anything. But if I tried to silence them and would be successful, who can guarantee I could let them speak up again?

By now I was bored to no end, so I tried to sense some souls. That would maybe lift up my spirits and boredom. I could just frighten someone or maybe even help like I did with that girl in the show. But in the end almost everyone was thankful no matter what I told, that I could answer their secret questions, which had never been answered while still possible, that I gave them opportunity to talk to someone one last time.

A few moments later I indeed sensed something. It was something confusing. I concentrated harder and stopped listening to the guy talking to me. The feeling I sensed grew stronger. It lasted a few moments more until I knew what was confusing about it. This poor soul had died only a short time ago, maybe half an hour. It still needed to get used to being a ghost. I could sense an extremely strong will behind his or her tries. Could this soul have been searching for me?

I waited for the soul to start speaking. I tried to assure it, even though I didn't know if it would help. But I sure did know I was curious and definitely willing to be patient. 'Stay calm. You don't have a solid form anymore. It's just your soul shifting through everything.' Slowly words came to my mind. Pat... Patrick... Pat... 'I am here. I will listen. Who are you?' I had the strange feeling I knew this voice. What was it about this particular soul?

I thought of making a show out of it. I still didn't know who this poor soul wanted to speak to. It would make acting a lot easier if I really didn't know. I decided against it. It was too strange. Some feeling inside my gut prevented me from searching for a belonging person. I heard the voice again, this time stronger. Oh Patrick... 'It's okay. Just tell me who you want to talk to. What do you want to say?' I felt deep despair radiating from the soul. I had never felt a souls emotions that strong. Patrick, I want to talk to you. Oh, Pat...

I shivered. Normally the souls didn't know my name. I realized she had used my name before. And what was even more disturbing: they really didn't call me Pat. There was only one person that dared calling me Pat. My beloved Angela. I gasped for air. One thought started to dominate my mind. The voice I heard sounded similar to Angela's voice. This couldn't be possible! I surely had gone insane. Angela was at home with little Charlotte. I took a look at my watch. They must be sleeping by now. Why would I hear her voice? She'd have to be... I decided I was just too tired and must be starting to imagine.

I looked up and saw the expecting face of the man in front of me. Obviously he had asked me a question. I mumbled an apology and left. I didn't want to talk to him any longer. I didn't even care about what he had asked me. I just wanted to go home, sleep, and forget this stupid and slightly creepy talking soul.
And over all get rid of this fearful feeling when I saw that everything was alright and get right next to Angela in bed.