AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I'm sure the fucker is not glad to see it, but I'm glad he left the door open because there's a commotion in the halls, and it drowns out the rapid fire beat of my own heart. He walks to stand in front of me, his hands clasped together in front of him.
"How are you feeling?" he asks.
"I'm reformed, Doc," I tell him. "You can untie me now."
Butcher laughs, and it's creepy as fuck on his skeletal face.
"I think not," he tells me. "You sent three of my guards to the hospital, and I don't even have a final body count on the number of students you hurt today. What exactly triggered you this time, Gabriel?"
Now we're playing this game.
Good.
"I must've disassociated," I tell him. "I don't remember what happened. I promise it wasn't me, Doc. It was one of the voices in my head."
He knows better than to think I hear voices, but I did disassociate this time, apparently, given I can't remember what the fuck happened. The best lies are based in truth, right?
I once fooled him for an entire semester when I told him I heard voices that ordered me to set shit on fire. No way is he buying that one again, and I catch the moment he realizes I'm lying to him. Dr. Butcher smiles, but the expression doesn't reach his dead blue eyes. I swear they get less blue and more clear every time I see him, like he's literally becoming less human and more specter with each passing day.
"I promise I'll be better," I tell him. I can barely hear my heartbeat with the door open, letting in the outside noise. I need it to stay that way. "You fixed me."
Butcher's smile falls.
"You used to be such a good boy, Gabriel," he tells me with a frown. "What happened? Did your father call?"
Butcher knows damn well my father called this morning, right after I tried to read and the words became hieroglyphics again. My day took the highway to worse after I spotted my Firefly crying in the hall. I don't know how he knows my dear old dad called me, but he does. Maybe I've shared too much when he's pumped me full of drugs and left me to ramble. It pisses me off, him immediately identifying the root of all my troubles. I used to be so good at fooling him, like the semester I told him I heard voices, and then there was the one when I convinced him the only way I could get my dick hard was by igniting fires. We explored my sexuality for a good five months back then. I must be losing my touch. He doesn't believe me anymore.
Oh well.
I cut the shit.
"How much blood was there?" I ask him, raising an eyebrow. Well, as much as one can raise an eyebrow when their head is strapped to a chair. "How many did I take down while they ripped off my clothes?"
Butcher smiles, but it's not real. If anything, it's a grimace, which makes me smile because that means I took down a lot of the bastards.
Good.
"Any fires?" I ask him.
One can hope, and there was that time I got lucky and grabbed my lighter before they found it in my pocket first. I never got my baby back after they finally ripped it from my hands, only after I set an orderly on fire. I guess they incinerated it afterward. Luckily, I have spares hidden away in my room because I like the aesthetic of my black Zippos.
Butcher shakes his head.
"No fires today, son," he tells me.
"Such a shame," I say. "How long ago was it?"
I'm actually curious about this one because I'd like to know if I did disassociate or if it was the drugs this time. Dr. Boucher steps closer, his hands still clasped. He reeks of old people and rubbing alcohol, and it makes my eyes burn.
"It's been long enough," he says, giving me a nonanswer. "Why are you so afraid of getting better, Gabriel? You can be more. You could be reformed. You could control the urges and control yourself. You could live a normal life."
"Where's the fun in that?" I scoff.
Neurotypicals are so not fun, but beyond that, the truth is I can't be normal. The doc in front of me will never understand that at the end of the day, I can't be normal because what happens when I'm normal and my father still doesn't give a fuck about me.
"Don't feel like talking?" Butcher tilts his head at me. "Maybe you will tonight."
No.
