Falling for a Psycho

Chapter Six

I’m going to go see Marilyn. I can’t get into her cell yet, but I can see her, and I don’t care if she yells at me.

It’s after midnight, and I don’t see the guards at their usual position. Someone should really do something about them. They’re neglecting to do their job. They’re supposed to be guarding the cell of a dangerous psychopath, and they aren’t. If she knew that they weren’t, she could escape.

I come up to the door, which has been fitted with another lock for some reason, and look inside the small window. Marilyn is lying on her back in the center of the room, staring up at the ceiling, and trying to get her feet out of the shackles. She seems like she’s deep in thought. You know those little glove things that they put on babies hands so they don’t scratch themselves? Marilyn has some on her feet so she can’t use her toenails as a weapon.

She gives up, and has a hard time sitting up but when she does, she looks in my direction, and tries to stand up. After ten minutes, she’s standing and leaning against the wall so she can come over to the door to bitch at me.

“Are you seriously trying to get me to kill you? Do you want to die? Back away from the door. Right now. I already know that you’re scared of me. If you aren’t out of my sight in five seconds, I will come out there and get you,” Marilyn says. I shake my head.

“No, I just wanted to apologize for last night,” I say. “That’s all.”

“Well you’ve done it. Get the fuck away. Now,” Marilyn says. “I’m not scared to come out there and kill you. I don’t care if I get shot by the guards and die. At least I’ll get out of this hell hole.”

 “I’m not going to make fun of you or anything. I really just want to talk to you,” I say.

“You’re really pissing me off. Once I find a way to get out of this cell, you’re at the top of my list when I go on my killing spree. Now, go,” Marilyn says. I pray to God that she’s kidding about the killing spree, but I have a feeling she isn’t.

I snap, okay? I get pissed, and freak out.

“Why do you have to be such a bitch all the time? Don’t you feel any sort of sympathy?” I yell.

“I am a bitch all the time because it’s assholes like you who fucking piss me off and because I’m a fucking psycho. I can’t feel sympathy. I’m insane. That’s why I’m in this dump. I’m nuts. Get away from the door because I promise you that I will come and kill you in your sleep,” Marilyn yells. “And I don’t break my promises.”

I see the guards running down the hall, and I dash back to my room. I don’t want to get caught.

I fall asleep almost immediately, and I don’t recall dreaming. However, I wake up on the floor. So, I must’ve dreamed something that ended up with me on the floor.

It’s Saturday, and I have to go talk to a psychologist. Everyone here does on Saturdays. Except for Marilyn. She can’t come out of her cell.

I walk down the hall to Dr. Morgan’s office. She’s the assigned psychologist that I was given. I push open the door to her office, and she’s sitting at the wooden desk. She’s in her late thirties with dark hair down to her shoulders and dark eyes.

“Hi. You must be Donovan. I’m Dr. Morgan,” She says, standing up and shaking my hand. I sit down on the leather chair in front of her desk.

“How are you adjusting?” Dr. Morgan asks. “I see that you just got here a couple days ago.”

“I’m adjusting. I miss my parents, but this place isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I’ve made a few friends,” I respond, looking down at my lap.

“Has your schizophrenia acted up?” Dr. Morgan says.

“Come to think of it, I’ve only heard the voices once while I’m here,” I say. “I don’t know why. I’m not on any new medications or anything.”

Dr. Morgan looks over her horn-rimmed glasses at the open file in front of her. “Good. I see here on your record that you’ve gotten yourself into a little bit of trouble already. What was that about?”

“Well, it wasn’t my idea, but I got caught over by Marilyn’s room,” I say, hoping she doesn’t ask how I feel about Marilyn, because I don’t know the answer to that question myself.

“There’s a reason why you got caught, Donovan. Marilyn is dangerous, and the guards are there for your protection,” Dr. Morgan says. I object. Sometimes, I want to punch people in the face.

“Is she really all that dangerous? Everybody here says she’s a psychopath, but no one has really talked to her,” I say, defending Marilyn which is something I didn’t intend to do.

“It seems as though you care about Marilyn,” Dr. Morgan notices.

“So what if I do? At least someone cares about her,” I respond. Dr. Morgan takes a deep breath, and looks at me over her glasses which are perched on her nose.

“We all care about Marilyn here. If we didn’t, she’d be running loose. All of the doctors that she’s seeing are trying to find some way to get rid of her problems so she can live normally. Marilyn is one of our high priority patients. We’re trying to help her,” Dr. Morgan says. I groan.

“And you think locking her up in a padded cell in a straitjacket is helping her?” I counteract. Dr. Morgan pinches the bridge of her nose.

“That’s enough for our discussion, Donovan. You may go,” She says. I walk out of her office and down the hall to the doors that lead out to the cafeteria. Its lunchtime and I do want to tell the other guys what Marilyn said to me.

I go through the line to get my food, standing behind Everett. Lunch today is chicken nuggets, limp French fries, baby carrots and a brownie which doesn’t look edible. I sit down at a table next to all of the other guys, and they look at me.

“I went and saw Marilyn last night, and now she’s going to kill me in my sleep,” I say. “She promised.”

“You honestly believe her threats?” Evan says. “She likes to threaten people, and she never acts on it. She can’t.” All of the boys nod in agreement. I take a bite of a chicken nugget which is surprisingly not half bad.

“I know she can’t, but she got out of that straitjacket pretty easily. She could get out of that cell. They put another lock on the door, but it’s possible. She’s a criminal mastermind,” I say. Everett looks at me.

“He has a point. She’s broken out of a maximum security prison before. This place is easy for her to break out of. What do you suppose she’d do if she’d got out?” Everett says, a slight bit of fear in his voice.

“I don’t want to know. She mentioned a killing spree last night when I was talking to her. She could be plotting something,” I say. “And she says I’m first to die.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she were planning something. I mean, she must be thinking about something when she’s sitting in that cell and staring at the wall. She’s very smart and she remembers things so she can remember how she’s broken out of things before,” Malcolm says. We all agree that it’s possible mental Marilyn is planning something. Something life-threatening. I just hope she isn’t.