Psychotic Maniac

Chapter 41

Estella said. "Wait a minute! Did you approach Edward?"

She responded positively, a look of guilt mixed on her face. "As I said. People like them don't seek help in case they get locked up. But approaching Edward was a mistake. I almost gave up researching him but he called me three years back and even then I was ready to go with my research."

"And how did it go?"

"Not so good. You see my boss' observation of Theodore and eventually, Edward was all I had. And it led to the conclusion that the psychopathy was genetic. My viewing lens was set wrong right from the beginning. Until he started talking about his mother. He talked fondly of her. He has a soft side for his sister. And eventually you. I thought all of it was bullshit."

"And then you found out about his father, right?"

"No something before that happened," she said. "I had a coincidence of meeting one of Edward's teachers and what she told me about him was a contradiction to what his classmates had said about him. Other than being a smart, quiet, and laid-back kid, he was none of the things the other students said."

"The other friends lied?"

"I'm positive. And they were not his friends. So they lied 'cause he was unfriendly. That I'm sure of." she said. "And I wasn't convinced even when I found out about his father but it did change a few things. I went through all our sessions over and over and I realized how trapped he was."

Estella kept her eyes on the papers spilled on the table as she listened to her. "He was mishandled."

"A lot. He was a child. Theodore raised him with a mold. A mold made out of him."

Estella felt a sudden rush of sympathy inside her. Whatever things she saw in his house, his strange family, and their work, it was perfectly fitting. "I don't know what to say. You're not asking for my help 'cause I don't know about it either."

"No, I'm not. I'm her therapist," she said. "Something I failed at miserably."

"You said he has psychopathic tendencies?"

"Yes. His mother's death, his stepfather's abuse, lack of belonging, and seeking validation. They all contribute to psychological disorder."

"So if he's not a psychopath," she said. "Then what is he, a sociopath? Is there even any difference?"

"A psychopath is born, Miss Sergeant," she replied. "But a sociopath is born. However, they both lack empathy."

"I think I can describe Edward in a single line," she remarked.

"I was there a while back just like you," she said. "I mean it comes naturally to them to fake remorse or empathy. Growing up in such an environment does that. Your morals change because you get accustomed to the new world order. It becomes their normal. So, I went for the last confirmation. Something that is reliable. And backed by science."

As Estella waited eagerly for Mrs. Jones to finish, she was again going through her binder and seconds later she had sets of images of brains on the papers in front of her. Mrs. Jones finally began. "Edward once mentioned to me about having a severe accident during college. He had several tests done and I got my hands on these. As you see here." she tapped somewhere on the image of the brain on the scan paper.

"Brain scans?"

"PET Scans," she began explaining. "Positron Emission Tomography. To put it in easy words, it shows brain functioning—the section of the brain that serves empathy and it lights up if they have empathy."

"And Edward's?" She wasn't sure what exactly she was asking for.

"He has a conscience," she said in affirmation. "It lights up."

"No, it can't." Feeling tears under her eyelids, she glanced at Mrs. Jones who was stone-set with her words. "It's hard to believe. I've seen him do things and not feel a thing."

"Yeah. He has darkness. There's no denying that. One of the very reasons I'm talking to you. Despite having a conscience, you could lose yourself. That's what has happened with Edward. It was his environment that made him that way. It happens to a lot of people. The extent of that is different in different cases."

"This is too much. I don't know how to take all of this information," she told her honestly. Unlike Edward, Estella had a healthy, wonderful, and loving family and she couldn't imagine her going through like Edward. But even then, she could never inflict pain on others.

"I know what you're thinking." Mrs. Jones said. "His past is not an excuse to hurt others. But I believe he wants help. Someone to hear him. Otherwise, he wouldn't have sought me in the first place."

"He's still around here?"

"Not for the last eight months."

"So what are you going to do now?"

"I can't push him but I believe he'll come around," she answered. "With proper and continued treatment, Edward'll heal. All he needs is a guiding voice."

Mrs. Jones shot Estella a hopeful glance. "I don't think I could be that voice."

"Of course, I don't want you to get hurt," she said. "Edward couldn't be fixed unless he wants it himself."

She quietly nodded her head at the woman. Mrs. Jones began collecting her binder, setting the pages back into the clip systematically.

"Mrs. Jones. If you don't mind can I have this with me for a few days?" she indicated at the binder.

After a long and considering beat, she agreed and glanced at her watch. "Alright, I've got to attend the seminars in fifteen. I'll drop you on the way."

Mrs. Jones scurried upstairs while Estella wrapped the binder back together as she mentally began planning how to keep it away from Edward. The only place she had to stay was his house and calling Tanya might be a trouble as Edward seems to know it all.

When Mrs. Jones returned with her purse and dressed in a suit, they left the house in her car.

"I never asked you one question though?" Estella asked.

"Yeah shoot," Mrs. Jones said as she kept her hands on the wheels.

"What about Mr. Blake's kids—Elvis and Nora? They grew up in the same house as him. They seem normal." she halted, rethinking her words. Edward was once normal in her head too until the facade came crashing down. "I mean are they really normal or just pretending?"

"From what I know. They are neither genetically nor environmentally affected. Elvis and Nora are not aware of their father's condition at all. Since the beginning, Theodore focused his attention on Edward. He was his trophy, his shadow shelf, his heir. He had what he needed so he kept his real nature to him and him only. Even growing up in the same house, Edward's life was not the same as his step-siblings."

"It's never black and white, is it?"

"Too complicated," she stated. "Early childhood is the most critical period when the foundation is laid for long life development."

Estella held her bag and the binder tightly now, an imaginary big rock weighing her heart down. Her head began diving into situations Edward had been through and they all were nasty. She wanted to get out of the car as the small space became too compact to breathe. She requested Mrs. Jones to pull over with an excuse to grab a few things from a store.

Estella immediately stepped down from the car and shut the door behind her.

"Miss Seargent." Mrs. Jones' voice snapped her attention back at her and whirled on her. "I knew you were the one."

Before she had the chance to ask what she meant by that, the car swept past her, disappearing ahead, leaving Estella with nothing but more questions and confusion.

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The chapter is unedited.
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