Inmate 4267

Him

My breathing stops for a moment, and a big part of me just wants to get up and walk out of the room. These shrinks are all the same, they meet with you once and think they have you all figured out. "If you were in my shoes, you wouldn't either." My tone comes off a bit snarkier than I meant, but I hope it gets my point across. She doesn't know me. She doesn't know the girl who graduated at the top of her class, the girl who devoted her life to being a good mother and wife. That girl may have died a long time ago, but if she didn't live, I wouldn't be this girl today either.

"So, help put me in your shoes Mona... Help me understand." My face slides closer to hers, and I meet her eyes. "You will never be able to be in my shoes, and for that you are blessed. Now ask your questions before I lose interest." Placing my hands on the table, I watch as she turns her head to the side and breaks the eye contact. "So, how were things before this happened?" "What do you mean?" "Like, did you ever have any indicators before that you were capable of something like this?" My back presses against the chair in front of me, and my gaze falls to the ground. "No." I replied flatly. "Nothing at all that ever concerned you?" My chest began to have a familiar tinge to it, a pull into places I did not want to go. "Well, doesn't everybody at some point have moments they feel crazy? Like, an argument with a parent where you know you're right, but they insist you're wrong?" When she heard this she began writing things down on a notebook that I couldn't see the color of. I could only see the white pages, with the blue lines going straight across. White, and blue.... with black ink drawing over the pages. Part of me feels as if I may have been the one that died that day and since then, everything that has happened has been a version of my own personal hell.

"Do you argue alot with your parents?" "No. I have mostly done everything they have expected of me, but they were not happy with me when I quit my job to be a stay at home mom." "Let's talk about that statement before I proceed with my next question. Did they always have .... expectations of you?" "Yes, don't all parents have expectations of their children?" My eyebrows scrunched together and I sat forward in my chair. "Don't you expect your child to keep their room clean? To get good grades in school?" "Yes. Those are normal expectations. I guess, what I really meant to ask was... how much pressure did those expectations put on you?" My hands began rubbing together, I didn't want to answer any more of her pointless questions that were digging deeper into things I have tried to forget about. Remaining quiet, I weigh out my options for a moment, before deciding that I should reply. I would like to be out of here someday. "They didn't have harsh punishments for me, but I was terrified to disappoint them. I had always been the princess of the family.My parents expected the best from me, and to not deliver that was always devastating." "I see. Now, to my next question" She pauses for a moment, looking up from her notepad and lifting her pen from the paper. "Why didn't they like the idea of you being a stay at home mother?"

A sigh escapes my lips. "They wanted me to have my own income and my own things. In case things didn't work out." "They didn't trust Howard?" As soon as his name escapes her lips the black dots begin forming in my vision again. I stand and walk towards the door."Im done." I tell the guard standing by the door. I turn around and face Rebecca, placing my hands behind my back so the guard can cuff me. "Mona. I'm sorry. It won't happen again, not until you're ready." My eyes have to appear soulless by now, I don't even feel like a person. It feels like I have escaped from my body and something else has taken over. She is still me, but a version of myself that seems to be angry and uncontrollable. "Don't you dare say his name." I say through gritted teeth before the guard pulls my arm through the exit.

I notice the guard is not walking towards solitary. I want to ask if I am going back to General Population, also called "gen pop", but I decide not to. They have never answered any of my questions before. He brings me back to my cell. It has been cleaned, but there are still red tinges throughout the brick walls that have been painted white. I immediately sit in my bunk. My fingers find their way to my head and my head rests on my arms for a moment. My lungs sucking in breath like I have just come from under the water. His face flashes through my head.

His light blonde hair, freshly cut and always styled to accentuate his beautiful green eyes. They used to capture me, and pull me in. Making me fall deeper into every word he said. His perfectly straight teeth, that were somehow always white despite his years of excessive coffee drinking. I try to push him out of my head, but I can't help but feel his lips brushing against the back of my shoulder. His hands wrapping around my waist. His stubble pressing against my neck. I would never feel those things again. Somehow, after everything, that thought still upset me...