Halves

The cigarette smell is all pervading. It seems to hover like a grey cloud and the rain is relentless. The room is not big. It is not heavily decorated. The furniture is minimal. The furniture is occupied. Short cropped hair, nicotine stained smile, disheveled clothes are sitting in an armchair. The opposite chair is occupied by a lady wearing brow-line glasses. Both are unaware that I'm listening. I’m pretending to be asleep but I'm awake. I need to know.

"How are you today Sam?"

"Peachy. And you?", the chafed lips blow a ring of smoke as they speak.

"I'm fine Sam. But I'm worried."

"Why? You are scared for her? I’ve promised to behave, haven’t I? I’ve been sober for six months now. And you are still unconvinced?"

"That somehow doesn't reassure me. You have been violent in the past - very violent. I need more than promises and sobriety. Where is she?"

“You know bloody well where she is.”

“Is she alright?”

Silence, and a smile. That smile again. That total confidence of survival. The lady didn't understand yet. Our fates are intertwined. Nothing she said or did would change that. I have accepted that. But I am worried today too. I am watching from the sidelines, well aware that what happened today would determine my life's course, irrevocably.

"Give me something to work with Sam. I know you don't want this."

"You don't have the first idea about what I want. Or what she wants for that matter. You have the gall to call yourself a counselor.", the last word was pronounced so viciously that it sounded like an expletive. The features are now contorted. Manic rage is in the eye, the set mouth, the furrowed forehead.

"Now, you're being difficult", she says coolly.

"You can't keep us apart. She'll take me back. She always does. You can't change peoples' natures any more than you can change your fingerprints."

She knew what that meant. The homicide all those years ago. She had always treated as a taboo subject. Something never to be discussed. But seeing it voluntarily brought up, she decides to pursue it. Still unsure if that was indeed the best course of action, she says, "of course. But you can always burn them away, right?"

This certainly wasn't expected. "You watch too many movies counselor. All that doesn't matter now anyway. I'm sending her away. Someplace safe. You won't get to her."

I can't see the paper in which my counselor is writing but I don't have to. I know what is on that paper.

"Patient: Samantha D. Session type: Follow up. Date: 05/05/11

* Still smokes. Shows no sign of quitting.
* Uses rhetoric to avoid answering questions.
* Aggressive outlook. Brings up reference to Jones, Eric case.
* Male alter threatening COMPLETE takeover. Immediate action required."