The Psychopath Maker

Chapter Eight

A slender figure, wearing a red helmet, disembarked from a matching Ducati superbike. He pulled off the heavy protective armor. It was Benny, a name that annoyed him but that he now accepted, at least until his old man died. It wasn't that he didn't love the man; they just had their differences. After all, dear old dad was the reason he was in this mess in the first place. He sent him to the asylum. It was his fault that his son lived in purgatory.

He had started off to class, already late when he heard a shriek as if some deranged kid were strangling a cat. He didn't pay much attention to it, though. It was just a car and one with deficiencies, such as a screeching belt, was of no importance to him. He had to make it to class on time. No matter which mode of transportation he chose, he always seems to arrive haphazardly late to campus and it didn't matter how late one was, it was still an offense of dire proportion. Some teachers would humiliate you in front of the class. Others would add a punishment to the kids' already abundant volunteer commitments.

Benny was strutting across campus on his way to class when a high pitch tone screamed, "Benjamin Alexander Lemen, Jr.!!"

He knew the voice. It was Catherine Carlson, the latest nurse on campus who had arrived straight out of some local nursing school. She was short and stocky, and she nagged him constantly in an effort to please his psychiatrist, Dr. Fulton. Benny and his last nurse had an agreement. As long as he was going to class, not making disruptions, and bringing in good grades, then everything ran smoothly. The new girl insisted on the same annoying thing, that he took his meds.

Already knowing what she wanted, he turned and said, "I'm fine, really. I don't need it." His annoyance was clear. He slouched his shoulders and sunk his head low when he spoke to her.

Ignoring his plea, she reached in the pocket of her salmon-colored scrubs and pulled out a half-filled, small syringe. She handed it to him. Benny let her hand hang in the air with the syringe for a couple of seconds until she played the only card that she had.

"It's good you feel fine, Benny, but you can't go to school without medication. You know the rules. Do you want the alternative?" She said in a low, serious tone with her light voice. She didn't have to elaborate. He knew the rules. In order to be free, he had to take the medicine, and if he didn't, it was back to the padded walls of Everclear Asylum.

As his eyes focused in the distance, he remembered the terror and the incoherent babblings of that terrible place. He was confident that he didn't want to return, so he took the syringe from her. He pulled the clear plastic cap off with his mouth as he did many times before and stuck the thin needle into his lean muscles. With the potion coursing in his body, he placed the cap back on the needle and handed it to her, fighting the urge to throw it at her feet.

"Happy." He sarcastically retorted. Her feelings were of no concern to him.

"You should be," she said with a faint smile. She placed the used syringe in her pocket to be properly disposed of back at the hospital.

Benny stood for a while with his eyes closed, already feeling the effects of the strong elixir. He could hear the rattling motor of her late-model Ford Taurus, driving off behind him. She had done her work and departed swiftly with a meek smile cast at the young man.

He slowly lifted his foot and placed it in front of the other, trying to resume his walking state. He walked in a haze. His head was as light as a sack of feathers. He made it into the comfort of the locker-filled hallway inside the Humanities building. He fell against his locker after he bumped into a few students who were rushing to get to their designated places. He twisted the black knob on his locker and tried to make out the numbers through his blurred vision. Relying mostly on the memory of how it felt, he successfully entered the combination and the lock subtly clicked open.

He opened his worn-out leather messenger bag and took out his sleek MacBook. He pulled out his Civics book and stuffed the bag into his locker. His head was spinning as he closed the locker, careful not to make a sound. Leaning against the locker, he succumbed to the sedative effect of the medication and slid down to the floor, closing his eyes for some reprieve.

Among those kids who were lingering in the hallway was Isabeth. She often spent too much time fraternizing with those near and dear to her; talking about teenage gossips, such as who did what and with whom. This time, she had forgotten her book. Holding the same Civics book that Benny had just grabbed from his locker, her flat heels were tapping down the waxed hardwood floor.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked Benny when she got close enough for him to hear her. She knelt at his side.

"My head is spinning like a merry-go-round." Benny illustrated with his hands, holding his face. He did not recognize the sweet caring voice and normally, he didn't disclose personal information to anyone, except his sibling to whom he told everything, often divulging things that frightened him at night and nagged him during the day—however, there was one thing that he didn't share at all; he kept that to himself. To others, he pretty much said nothing at all.

"Then give me your hand. I'll get you to class," Isabeth said as she rose to her feet. She reached out her small hand, which showcased metallic gold, painted fingernails.

Benny's eyes peeled open. He had to see who this person was. Typically, no one talked to him, and now this stranger was being kind, escorting him to class. Through light brown eyes, he saw Isabeth. It wasn't the first time; he had seen her from afar, always in a cluster of friends, or with the unshakable Troy Zhang. But now, she was by his side, tending to him. The awestruck boy in him wanted to grab her soft hand, but the reserved young man in him resisted.

"It's okay." He looked away from her, peering down the vacant hallway. "I'll wait. I'll only take a minute until I can get on my feet."

"Nonsense. We're in the same class." Isabeth grabbed his long-fingered hand from his knee. "Let's go."

It would have been useless to say no to the determined beauty. He stood but his light head caused him to topple over. Isabeth wrapped a firm arm around his waist, stabilizing him against her side. He held onto Isabeth's forearm as she guided him down the slick hallway. His heart fluttered and his skin burned; this was the girl he stared at in the hallway, across the cafeteria, and stole glances at during lectures. He relished at this moment with her. Unfortunately, that mood would only last for a few fleeting seconds until they entered the rambunctious classroom.

What do you think is going to occur at the sight of Isabeth helping Benny to class?