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The Psychopath In Me
By Dee Kay & Roy
( Genre – Psychological drama)
(Read Time – 10 to 15 Mins)
(All characters in this story are fictional and resemblance to any dead or alive would just be a coincident.)
Though I didn’t get many visitors, the interviewer who sat in front of me was bombarding with her questions that were duller than what I had previously thought. The new reporter who was pounding me with those cliche questions somehow expected some answers that were different from my foregone interviews, hoping to discover anything interesting left-out part of my life. However, these four walls were what I had known more than I knew this crazy world; at least for past 5 years. Unable to find anything substantial for her report, she slowly started to feel unsettled with my replies and at the same time started to shoot unprepared & under par framed questions out of her spite. I felt pity at her naiveness until the moment when one last question of hers pulled those forgotten chords of mine that once had marked the boundaries of my personality.
“I heard that you are often called the psychopath. Is it because you are ruthless at times and don’t really have emotions or Is it because you know how to tame your emotions?”
I took a heavy breath as the last word ’emotions’ left those soft red lips of her. For a large portion of my life that single word has acted both as a demon and as a savior. Yet there wasn’t any demarcation that could help me identify when and which role it did play with me. The question of her seemed to unlock the doors that had already been bolted shut years ago. Maybe this was the moment, I needed to show her a glimpse of the fathomless depth of my inner self. Maybe she would be strong enough to handle this experience or maybe she would. like many before, run & hide.
“Why do we need to feel these unexplained emotions? Why do we need to be sucked in the black hole of a feeling called love? Why do we even need to feel guilty or have to show compassion or empathy? When in reality no one really cares as to how and what you feel especially when they have their own shit to deal.
I always end up faking such so-called feelings and the funny part is that they have labeled me a ‘Psychopath’ without even giving a second thought whether I do feel them. Many I do or maybe I don’t but how can one define what is and what is not the correct way of feelinfg an emotion. In fact, you are first in a long time that dared to walk into these unsaid and unanswered regimes of my life. For starters, don’t worry I am harmless…
…for the most part of the day.”
Her momentarily sigh of relief turned into a mixture of nervousness, fear, and concern as the delayed phrase completed my statement. She did not interrupt and looked at me with her blank greedy eyes, wanting more of the story. I smiled as I saw her falling into the loop of my thoughts and so I continued.
“Look around the people you know or pass by in public and then tell me don’t they fake many emotions to gain something or the other all the time though they are never labelled a psychopaths because they don’t have a make-believe abnormality in their brain. Frankly, I don’t apprehend the big fuss about having those feelings when they’re actually nothing but chemical reactions in our bodies. The only issue with me is that my lab is a little unique than others.“, I told the reporter.
“Do you consider yourself as a danger to the society?“, the young blonde reporter asked me nervously. I could clearly see how restless she was inside. She was even sweating a bit although she pushed the blame on the lights. She tried to smile but I guess me staring at her didn’t help. She spoke at a faster pace, muddling few of her words while trying to keep up with the pace of my thoughts.
“No“, I simply replied. I wanted her to feel at edge not because I am mean but because I love getting reactions off people.
“So you’re not a danger to the society even though many of your psychiatrists think you might be a ticking timebomb.“, she asked only this time she was little less afraid.
“No and Yes.”, I smiled without letting my stare wander off her eyes. Whenever I do anything, I give my undivided focus to it and at that instant, she was the center of my attention. That is why I have been labeled as an intimidating person devoid of any compassion. I smiled slightly. She faked a smile too.
“I don’t understand.”. she remarked while looking meagerly confused.
“Neither do I but I will try to explain. See if you look at the most dangerous serial killers closely you will see that there are similarities in their behavior as well as in their early life. Well, also their final destination.”, I chuckled and she did not.
“Science has made advancement in many areas yet it just cannot acquiesce the fact that it just doesn’t know enough about that 7-pound organ in that skull of ours. The biology of it is simple compared to the unknown chemistry of that mind. So if I may take the liberty here to insinuate that it is good and bad in every brain chemistry, all it needs is the right catalysts to spark a chain reaction. Some are born psychopaths while most are conditioned into this taboo.“, I said with a straight emotionless face.
“Ahh, but don’t you….”
“You legitimately look beautiful in this yellow it brings out the blue in your eyes.“, I interrupted her before she could even go against my argument. She paused and then smiled a little freely for the first time. She adjusted her glasses and thought for a second or two as if she has forgotten what her next question would be in this awkwardly different interview.
“Don’t you think that you’re somehow justifying brutal serial killers by blaming everything on their brain chemistry and their childhood instead of making them accountable for their actions?“, she asked except this time she looked more interested in knowing my answer. I gave away a wide grin before I spoke my mind. I could look through people’s feelings and she was no exception to me. The only difference was her veiled expressions and body gestures were easily giving away her inner thoughts without me even struggling a bit.
“I am an analytical person and I break ideas or actions into small bits and parts to comprehend them as a whole. It is not my intention to provide a justification rather a small segment of my analysis and let you decide whether it contents your thirst of an answer. You need to understand that there are certain things that a person cannot control while there are other things or attributes that they can actually contain. Here is the catch, a serial killer is someone who commits at least three murders over more than a month with an emotional cooling off period in between. So when I talk about brain chemistry or childhood experiences then I am referring to the uncontrollable aspect whereas the choice to kill is actually that facet which can be monopolize. Killing someone is the choice they make as they get some weird gratification out of it or something.”, I tried to explain.
“What is your take on love as you mentioned earlier that you don’t know why people and I quote “sucked in the black hole of a feeling called love.”?”, she asked and this time with a wide smile as if she has finally cornered me. To be true, I love to make people believe in a illusion of my making as it gives me the power to control the situation and the people in it. Her naiveness intrigued me while her consistent efforts impressed me. So, I decided to give away a fragment of my personality but at the same time maintaining the subtleness and the control.
“Love…. Well I don’t quite understand how love is defined in this world. There is no one criteria or traits that could completely define this heavily used word. Love can be anything from spending time with someone or giving someone money, or just being there for someone although the most common thing that I have noticed is that most people think love is sleeping together and that just cracks me up as to how foolish people can be.”
“So you don’t think people who sleep together can be in love?”, she jumped me with this question.
” They can be if they can define love. If you see it logically then you will observe that most people do something for the opposite gender for mainly sex. I mean if you look at it they use cliche words like sleeping together when they actually mean to say is let’s fuck.”, I blurred out the F word and she was taken back by it. I continued,
“Sex is natural as it comes from our animal instincts. Just like animals, we are also programmed to transfer vital information to the next generation through DNA so we act like animals when it comes to mating. So if mating means love than I am pretty sure there are a couple of ladies out there with whom I must have been in love and they even accepted money from me.”
I guess this was the limit to her patience as she was perplexed by my honest and a bit sinful answers. She looked at the cameraman then at the producers who signaled her to get it over. I am too much for this world I guess. Then she said her end remarks,
“Thank you, Mr. Derek Samuel Roth, for this candid interview and for becoming the youngest person to be featured in the top 10 richest list.” , she leaned forward and shook my hand as they called it a wrap.
“So how did I do?”, I inquired even though knowing that my whole persona has been an assignment for people and it would take them forever to really know me. Anyways, as I said I like to keep the ball in my court.
“Quite controversially I must say.”, She replied instantaneously and then continued…
“Would you like to get some coffee? Maybe I could define love for you.?”, she asked with a seductive smile.
That was for the first moment during the whole interaction that I broke contact with her eyes while hers tried hard to keep my attention from drifting away as I scaled the mountain. The only thing she did not realize that she had already fallen into the web of my answers and that short interview rubbed away few of my characteristics on her. I guess in the end we are all attracted to a little psycho and have a bit of evil inside whereas for her, she just got attracted to the psychopath in me.
** THE END **
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Categories: Short stories