Psychology or psychopathic?

I really can’t believe this happened to me, I am unable to comprehend. Is it true, or was I dreaming? Is it grotesque, or am I simply too inexperienced about the world? Well, you shall judge for yourself.

Being an Alcoholics Anonymous counselor, I thought I had seen all sides of human nature and all the weirdest things in the world. But when my sister went off for a holiday and I was asked to take over her practice for a day, I never saw what I expected.

Now what you must know about my sister is that we are both identical twins (no, you Stephen King fan, we do not have some freakish connection and nor do I feel pain when she falls down) but we are completely different individuals. I am 30, and I still have no idea what to do with my life. My sister, on the other hand, knew in middle school that she wanted to become a psychologist. She’s ambitious, meticulous and very hardworking – the exact opposite of me. One thing we share is our complete randomness though. We operate on impulses. Last summer, we went on a trip to Alaska. Just like that. One day we are sitting in our living room watching this documentary on discovery about Alaska and that very weekend we are there. So this  time my crazy sister had this urge to skydiving with her boyfriend (or fiancée – depending upon her  mood). But she had this extremely important appointment with this new patient. She had rescheduled her thrice and couldn’t possibly put her off anymore. So in a flash this  evil idea struck me (it seemed really good at that time, but well – I’m not known for my good decision making powers). I told her she could take off and I would take care of this patient. After all, how hard could that be? Make the person lie down on a couch, hold a notepad, smile and pretend to note down whatever they are saying. That’s what the movies say anyway. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

So I’m sitting in her plush office wondering why she has only Nicholas Sparks in the waiting room when this woman walks in. She looks completely ordinary – black jeans, white tank top, hair pulled back into a ponytail – someone you wouldn’t look again at if they passed you in the street. I relax, thinking smugly that this is probably a standard break-up case. She smiles at me, and sits across. She has a pretty smile, I notice. Her eyes crinkle up as she smiles – she looks like the sort of person who takes their younger sister to see Harry Potter movies. I look at her expectantly. She looks back at me with her small eyes. Unusually small, now I come to think of it. I haven’t seen anyone with such small eyes. Small and brown.

Her : So where do I start?

Me: Well…. How about at the beginning?

Her: Oh, but don’t you remember what I told you on the phone?

Me: Oh….Uh. Yeah. Yeah, of course. (I had no idea what she was talking about. I cursed my sister in my mind.)

Her: Okay, so. I’ll start with the dreams, shall I?

Me: Yeah, sure.

Her: So I’ve been pretty calm after this rehab. I understand that sex addiction is all in mind and I can control it.

I do a double take, and pretend to take this knowledge in without showing my shock (I’m a pro at this – my sixteen year old niece told me she’s pregnant while I was pouring orange juice and I didn’t spill a drop if it outside the glass. I fainted though. In my defense, for the first and only time in my life. But that’s a different story.) I’m shocked, yes, but intrigued too. And strangely excited.

‘So I had this dream last night where, you know, I was making love with my ex-boyfriend. He comes close to me, breathes on my lips and then turns away. We’re in a toolshed, and he backs me up against the wall. My breathing accelerates, so does his heartbeat. He then comes at me forcefully, parting my lips as if he’s wanted me forever. His fingers are digging into my back, and his lips purposefully move to my neck. He then….’

Nicholas Sparks in the waiting room, hmm? I filter her out as I wonder what a delightful Sunday I’d be having had I not taken up this offer. Regretfully I turn back to her and try to pay attention.

‘..and his left hand is in my shirt and teasing the small of my back, making small circles there. He does everything I’ve ever fantasized about since when I was a teen. But strangely enough, I am not turned on. I feel weird, as if something is wrong with me. Surely, with this perfect mix of caress and aggression, any woman would get turned on? But my body does not give me that biological hint. I am disappointed and I lose interest. He notices. His methods change and he gets harsher. His teeth are digging into my lower lip, softly chewing it then biting my neck hungrily. I feel nothing. He tries harder. He holds my waist and turns me and backs me up against a machine. He’s angry now. Well, Ryan has always had anger-management  issues. His hand is in my shirt, blindly grabbing anything and everything. I do not respond. He tries every possible thing and my body remains limp. Then..’


I realize I’m riveted. My breath is a little faster. I’m excited.

‘His brow furrows, his fists clench. He lets out a scream of frustration. His backs away a bit and his hand grabs whatever is around. His muscled, sinewy arms grab whatever machine is behind him. It is on wheels, I realize it is a forklift. He bellows like a bull and pushes it towards me. It rams into me.

He tried to hit me with a forklift.

I immediately came.’

I stand up. I am strangely fascinated. Bur my body tells me otherwise. I feel nauseous. I back away from her. I practically run out of the office. Before I run, instinct makes me turn around to see her once more. She’s smiling at me, her jeans rolled up to her knees. Her ankles are of a bluish hue, clotted with blood. There are distinctive marks on her legs, as if….as if she had been hit with something heavy.

I gasp, and that’s the last thing I remember. I pass out.


Fiction. For

20 thoughts on “Psychology or psychopathic?

  1. I like it. Excellent storytelling. My only suggestion is that you look up forklift… You’ll understand what I mean when you see a picture of one.

    Thank you for sharing this today.


      1. It does, except Ryan wouldn’t be able to pick it up and it might be a bit large for a toolshed. They’re generally used in warehouses to lift pallets loaded with cartons. But since a non sequitur is something that doesn’t fit and doesn’t make sense, it works!


        1. Firstly, thank you for your feedback 🙂

          And of course. ‘His muscled, sinewy arms grab whatever machine is behind him. It is on wheels, I realize it is a forklift. He bellows like a bull and pushes it towards me. It rams into me.’ Ryan’s pushing it on her, on wheels. He’s not picking it up.


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