Escaping Neutrality

“Good Morning, Derek”

“Mornin’ Doc”

“How are you feeling today? Any more thoughts of harming-”

I had to interrupt her. Doctor Fuller was one of the better shrinks I’d had to deal with, but she was a real jobsworth about following the script. It would be the same old introductory questions. She couldn’t help but tick those boxes at the top of the day’s crisp white form, still warm off the copier, but would be terrified of doing so unless I actually said the words. I struggled to find the patience to verbalise my repeated and identical statements.

“Ever noticed how stark our world has become?” I asked out of the blue, cutting her off to her obvious annoyance. She sighed. Then visibly gathered up a well-practised decorum.

“What do you mean by that?” she asked, abandoning the prescribed sheet for later and joining my real conversation. I was proud of her.

“I mean that, when we were children, the world was full of colour. I’d wait to cross the road and see cars of gold, green, red and blue fly past. I’d look down the street and every house would be trimmed with sage guttering, burgundy window frames or dark blue front doors. My bedroom was even painted a musky orange and had deep brown carpets at one point. It really off set the crimson of my lava lamp and the teal of my inflatable couch…but today, what do you see when you look around?”

“I still see some of those things, but you’re right, most things are far more tastefully done these days. Do you miss your childhood? Would colourful surroundings bring you more comfort, as you had back then?”

“Tasteful. Classy. Reserved. Miserable. Soul destroying.” I said, hammering my point home and ignoring her textbook questions. Dr. Fuller really needed to up her game, but what could I expect from someone so new to the field. And so young, “I bet you drive a white car, huh, Tasha?”

“Dr. Fuller, please, Derek. Yes I do. Why is that relevant?”

“Well I know for a fact that they’ve made white the cheapest option. For any splash of colour whatsoever, you have to pay a premium now. Is it any wonder, that every modern car you see in the road is now white?”

“I suppose not. Most, like me, cannot afford the extra expense. What are you getting at here, Derek?”

“Only that the world was fading, having its colour drawn out, far before I was ever denied the sight of it.”

I did not register her next question. Her side of the conversation always included a question. I was distracted by the spontaneous idea that Dr. Fuller would have an office somewhere, and that there was a chance it might not be quite as bland as her car. Its walls might be covered in bright book spines, all in clear view from the comfortable, deep maroon couches. A myriad of certifications in shining wooden frames would sit side by side with calming vistas, no doubt depicting an unnamed ocean of calming blue spotted with colourful sail boats. I imagined it as being quite pleasant. Perhaps she was right. A throw back to my early years, drenched in technicolour, might have offered me some contentment. Useless to contemplate. I would never again see such a sight in this life. My imagined home for the dear doctor was a far cry from our current reality. White-washed concrete encased the bare room I was forced to meet her in daily. Grey, steel chairs and a matching table offered the only tint to the otherwise monochrome box. Tasha’s wardrobe of endless white blouses and grey skirts might have been a choice, but I expected it was simply a subconscious effort to conform to the washed-out world that we both inhabited.

“Did you hear what I said, Derek?” she asked, ducking her head to try and catch my vacant eyes.

“No.” I answered honestly.

“…Where were you?”

Credit where credit is due, the doc had some skills. Instead of accelerating with her own agenda, she was able to pull into my lane at a moment's notice. Time to knock her off the road.

“I was imagining where I would find you, outside of this place. Without these…” I said, staring her directly in the eye and pulling sharply on the handcuffs that strapped my wrists to my chair. The loud and sudden clink of the metal chains startled her and I watched as her pupils dilated in fear. It was the little pleasures. Telling the truth, but in a way that elicited the reaction I desired? It was all the entertainment I could find anymore.

I thought she was done after that. Figured she would flee, never to return, to be replaced with yet another box checking drone, fresh out of shrink school, wanting to prove they could handle the worst of the worst. Instead, she surprised me.

“You will never again be without those, Derek, nor will you ever see the outside world freely. My job here is only to determine which walls will hold you. Do you understand that?” Tasha said, setting her jaw and returning my stare. Always another question with Doc Fuller.

“I understand completely. I am not a simpleton.” I snapped. Her resilience annoyed me.

“I agree. It’s quite the opposite, I think. You are clearly very intelligent, Derek. After these few sessions I can see you are more than capable of self-reflection. So shall we stop wasting each others time and get back on task? Pass your psych evaluation and I’ll put my recommendation in that you be transferred to Parkhurst and allowed regular yard time. Keep driving away your doctors and avoiding the issue with talk of cars and old bedroom decor and you will remain here, isolated on the psych ward, for the rest of your sentence.”

“For the rest of my life.” I corrected her.

“If that is what you want, then I may as well leave now.” She didn’t move. A weak gambit that rarely fooled children. It never convinced mine. To use it you had to be willing to follow through. I could never bring myself to let them out of my sight, much as Dr. Fuller would never have the courage to walk out of that door on the gamble that I’d call her back. I decided to give her the victory anyway. Let her feel powerful for a moment, before I took it all away.

“It would be…preferable…to see the blue of the sky again,” I conceded, “White rooms with grey furniture, guarded by monochrome uniforms and visited by equally starkly adorned doctors,” I said, gesturing at her up and down, “I might as well be in heaven already for the level of cloud cover that surrounds me”

“Do you believe in heaven?” Tasha asked, and just like that, with yet another question, the session resumed.

It was the most personal question she had asked me yet. Her confidence was growing. I could not allow it to dwarf my own. No. She would need to regain her fear of me soon. I refused to admit that her earlier stoicism had ruffled me, yet I felt a growing urge to get the upper hand once more. She knew all too well I could never get close enough to harm her physically. I was too notorious for that kind of carelessness from the guards. I’d need to break her from a distance, and I planned to.

“Of course, don’t you?” I countered.

“I’m not sure. I am yet to hear a convincing argument either way.”

“Coward,” I whispered, “belief is not something you can be convinced of.”

“Do you believe you are destined for heaven, Derek?”

“Why not?” I asked, “God forgives us all, for the weakness of our flawed human existence. All we need do is seek and accept it”

“And you have asked for forgiveness?” she ventured. I could hear the eagerness in her voice. The building excitement that it could be that easy. That I could give her what she needed to scribble on her form and sleep easy, knowing she had succeeded in bringing a lost cause back from the brink.

“For what?” I feigned ignorance. Baiting her was so easy.

“For your crimes…”

“Come on doc…you can say it,” I paused for only a second before exploding forward across the table as far as my clasped wrists would allow me, raining spittle that peppered her damn forms as I roared my best imitation of a literary detective, “FOR MURDER MOST FOUL!?”

I almost missed her reaction for my laughter. Psychologists were such fun. When will they realise that some behaviours are chosen simply for the entertainment of it rather than the result of some past trauma. As it was, my eyes cleared from joy induced tears just in time to see her recovering herself and returning to a normal position, after trying in panic to escape her pale, metal seat.

“You can try to scare me all you like, Derek,” she said with breaths that had not quite slowed, “but I won’t be leaving. Not as a result of any action of yours. I am your last chance, and I don’t intend to be the reason this system fails you.”

All mirth left me, and my face dropped into a practised blankness. I decided in that moment it was time to try a little more earnestly. No longer for my own enjoyment, but because I knew a truth that Tasha had yet to realise. I was never going to be transferred, no matter what I revealed to her. The only way I was ever going to see anything but the consuming whites of my cell again, would be by my own hand. So, there was little point in her dance, I needed only one thing from the good doctor and to get it, I wanted her distracted, nervous and off script.

Straight backed, head high and glasses once more pushed up on her nose, Tasha Fuller tried her best to ignore my outburst and proceeded to ask her next question.

“So, whether to God or man, you understand that you need to ask forgiveness for the deaths you caused?”

“No,” I said musically, “I never stated the reason I would require forgiveness. No, my prayers are more centred around lust and gluttony. There are few pleasures left to me other than my imagination and my meals.” I said, winking at the pretty little doctor. An exaggeration for her benefit. I could not truthfully admit to enjoying the white mush of potato and grey mystery meat I ate daily. Thinking of her though? That worked. I liked them pale.

“Derek. You are incarcerated here for the murder of your wife and two daughters. Do I need to explain to you again the gravity of your situation? If myself and my colleagues cannot determine an underlying cause for your violent behaviour, then you are facing a lifetime of being classed as criminally insane. Would you rather a continuation of the ‘treatment’ you get here, or are you willing to embrace the chance we are giving you. At Parkhurst, you might truly find rehabilitation.”

“All of that is at your discretion Doc. I am here, I am an open book. I have never lied. Not once. I pride myself on honesty,” I said, raising my chin in challenge, “If you want the answers you seek, you simply need to ask the right questions, instead of these meaningless generalities.”

I watched her scour her memory and her notes. Her eyes darting, looking for the truth in my words, until my meaning dawned on her.

“Why? Why did you do it?” She asked immediately. Blessedly direct.

“Finally,” I sighed, “sometimes, after all that education, all that introspected study and exploration of the human condition, all you need do is ask a simple, straight forward, common sense and normal question. Why did I kill them? I was saving them.”

I heard the click of her pen and the scrawling of notes behind the steel clipboard. Now I had her. Beyond her strict training. Out of her depth.

“Saving them from what?” She asked, the interest bright in her eyes.

“They were under the power of demons. Their lives were already forfeit. I released their souls from their torture, to be claimed by the sky, where they wait for me to join them. I would be there already, if I were a stronger man.” I shook my head and dropped my gaze, genuinely lamenting at my failure. Her scribbling continued for a few moments longer, before stilling the room to silence.

“You thought your family were possessed by demons?” Dr Fuller attempted to confirm.

“ARE YOU STUPID!?” I yelled, snapping my head back up to meet her scrutiny. It was the only part of my body I was allowed autonomy over during the sessions. “I didn’t say possessed. I said they were under the power of demons! Through their muted screens, the endless stories pumped into their grey matter turned them into walking avatars for another’s narrative. Their minds warped, their perception altered and they were no longer the girls I knew. They began spouting the same garbage that was looping into our home from the black and grey bordered rectangles of controlled light. The only colour in their lives coming from what was gifted by monsters via LED, while they systematically stole it from any other pursuit. My family became puppets to an evil’s will. I took their souls and put them out of reach! I surrendered them into the protection of a power that exists in true light and colour, above our poisoned planet!” 

I could feel my chest heaving. The passion from my torrent of words pumped through my veins. I could not stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks, the sobs from wracking my body. My grief over the actions I had been forced to take broke free. It was real. I should not have had to take such drastic action, but it had been the only way. I heard the scrape of her chair as she pushed it back and rose. Smelt the flowery perfume that wafted before her as she approached and shuddered under the warmth of her hand on my shoulder. When the good doctor crouched and put her face on a level with mine, I hesitated, her words were so kind.

“Its alright now, Derek, I’m going to make sure you get the help you need.”

This would be a hard lesson for her to learn. I slammed my forehead into her glasses, shattering them against her face and feeling the bone in her nose crack. It took a moment of delay for her body to catch up, but then quickly, crimson blood flowed down her face from her nose and the cuts around her eyes. I was not sure if it was hers or my own that I tasted on my cut lips. The deep red that painted our faces in unison was a desperately welcome tone amongst the stark. True colour suddenly swamped the pallor of my world. It was glorious. It was relief. It was satisfaction.

My head hit the back of my cell with such force that I feared the guards had already done the work for me. I laid still, stunned by the blow and waited for my monochrome world to refocus. The white room and strong lights pierced inward, accelerating the headache that was to come. They would be back to take me to the infirmary soon enough. First they would need to rescue poor Doctor Tasha Fuller from her minor injuries. She deserved their attention. She was the best shrink I’d ever had. She’d healed me and didn’t even know it. From between my teeth I dropped the shard of glass I’d bitten from her broken optics. I took it between my now free fingers and readied myself to join my family in salvation. From my body would birth a refuge of colour amidst the sea of white. Just as they had, I would arise from a pool of bright crimson. Bathed at its centre, I would finally be able to ascend to where a full spectrum of light would welcome me home.