Hello my lovely readers, thank you for reading my story! :) I just recently started this one and I would really appreciate some feedback on it. I have two other stories on wattpad that you can check out: Broken Ice and Good Guys are the New Bad Boys. The picture in this chapter is Arie Finnigan (Barbara Palvin). I hope you enjoy! :)
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Arie's P.O.V.
I woke up to the sound of pounding fists on my apartment door.
I jolted awake, slightly apprehensive due to the vicious knocking that was coming outside my door. I rubbed my sleepy eyes and slipped out of bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants.
The pounding at the door only got louder.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," I grumbled to myself, trudging through my darkened apartment to the waiting door. I glanced at the clock in my living room, only to discover that it was 5:00 am.
My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Who would be knocking at my door at 5:00 am?
Shaking my head slightly, I unlocked the front door and swung it open. There were two policemen dressed in their crisp uniforms with guns hung loosely at their sides. It was Tommy and Joey. A good year before I was recruited for the FBI, I worked with the Seattle police department. Tommy and Joey were my partners.
I raised my eyebrows in surprise at them. "What are you guys doing here?"
They traded sorrowful looks, before looking back at me with stone-cold expressions. My eyes caught that move. In only a couple seconds, I knew that whatever they were here for, it wasn't good. I knew that because I read them.
People are easy to read, if you know what to look for.
Joey cleared his throat awkwardly, before speaking. "Arie, we're going to need you to come with us." He finished his order with a pointed stare, a look he only gives to those he's arresting.
I crossed my arms, my eyes narrowing. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me why you're here."
Guilty looks flashed on both of their faces, making my heart pound with anxiety.
"Arie, we have to take you in," Tommy announced, the pitying look on his face only making my blood boil.
"For what? I didn't do anything," I defended myself, irritation spreading through my body.
Joey sighed deeply, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, pain was shining in his sea-colored eyes.
"Arie, they want to send you away to a mental hospital."
My heart sunk in my chest. It felt like I couldn't breathe; my throat was clogged. My body suddenly seemed weaker, unable to hold itself up. The floor seemed to cave beneath my body, threatening to send it into the darkness below. I stood frozen, staring blankly at the two men I once considered my friends, praying that this was some kind of sick joke. Judging by look on their faces, it wasn't.
"What?" I gasped out, feeling like I was thrown into a lake of icy water.
Joey stepped forward, grabbing my arm. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, before cuffing me. I was in too much shock to even fight back, to even say anything.
I just stared unblinkingly ahead, as they dragged me out of the apartment complex and into the cramped police car.
It was weird being the cuffed one in a police car. I was usually the one saving the day.
The irony of my situation made me want to burst into tears and scream how unfair this all was. But I didn't. What would be the point? Someone wanted to send me away and I doubt that I would have any say about it.
I can't believe they think I'm crazy.
My head throbbed with pain, as I tried to go over everything that happened in the last few days. I tried to remember any clues that I may have missed that would have led people to believe I'd gone insane.
This was my absolute worst nightmare.
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It took a half hour before I was staring up at a white-washed building. It had a deceptive appearance. On the outside it looked like your average, tall building, with windows peeking out of the stone-built walls. There was a beautiful courtyard out in front, where wooden benches and a little pond could be found. I would imagine it would be quite beautiful on warm, sunny days. But, I knew what was waiting for me on the inside. I was not fooled by their attempt to look calming and therapeutic.
Joey buzzed us in, making the gates of hell open for us. I averted my gaze from my permanent home, refusing to accept this was actually happening.
But it was happening. And I could do nothing to stop it.
I was here, sitting in the back of a police car, my brown hair rumpled, my narrowed, blue eyes tired, dressed in plaid pjs, being hauled into a mental hospital.
A delirious laugh threatened to erupt inside of me, but I held it back. It would only make them think I was actually crazy.
We stopped right in front of the two-door entrance. I felt my pulse quicken, as I gulped nervously finally meeting my doom.
Tommy and Joey stepped out of the car and opened my door to let me out. I stumbled getting out, since my hands were still cuffed tightly behind my back. Tommy and Joey quickly latched onto my arms, on either side, and steadied me.
I was too angry to thank them.
We trudged toward the front steps, entering into what looked almost like a hospital check-in. Well, I guess this was a check-in of sorts.
"We have Arie Finnigan with us," Tommy announced to the secretary. I saw her eyes widen as she briefly made eye contact with me. Confusion spread throughout my body. When she looked at me, I saw raw fear in her eyes. I scrutinized her, trying to figure out why she was so scared of me. It must have something to do with the reason for my being here.
"You can take her to Dr. Reynolds in her office. She's waiting for you," the secretary spoke quickly and quietly. I couldn't help but compare her to a meek mouse. She shot me one last terrified glance before returning to her duty, pretending I wasn't staring her down.
"C'mon, let's go," Joey muttered, tugging my arm down a white, fluorescent hallway.
My nose was punctured with the smell of disinfectant, making my face crinkle with distaste. Everywhere I turned, there were splashes of white. It was quite ironic. White stands for purity and innocence and yet, this place is anything but pure and innocent.
Even the devil looked like an angel.
I was steered into a room at the end of the hallway. As I stepped in, my eyes refocused on the splashes of color that shined through the room. There were smooth, dark wooden seats and a desk, a tall, shiny lamp in the corner, plants and family pictures sprinkled here and there, and of course, plaques of qualifications and educational awards covering the walls. Welcome to every typical psychologist's office.
I finally noticed the prim, blond lady sitting daintily at the desk. Her blond, thin hair was pulled into a strict ponytail. A dark blue pantsuit adorned her figure, giving off a wave of importance. Her blue eyes were sharper than ice, a characteristic that stood out. The rest of her body was fragile and soft, but her eyes, her eyes were cold and hard and unfeeling.
I hated her.
"Hi, I'm Dr. Reynolds. You must be Arie," she smiled sweetly, holding out a hand. I wanted to roll my eyes at her. How the hell can I shake your hand when my hands are cuffed?
"I must be," I replied dryly, giving her a cold, blank stare. This woman was fake. I knew it. She knew that I knew it. And, she simply didn't care.
She retracted her hand with an awkward chuckle. "Why don't you boys un-cuff the girl. I have it from here, thank you." While she spoke, her eyes never left mine; the beady crystals trying to intimidate me. I simply raised a mocking eyebrow at her.
If this lady knew anything about me, she would know I'm not so easily intimidated.
Tommy un-cuffed me, leaving me rubbing my raw wrists. He and Joey sent me weak smiles, before whispering 'goodbye' and exiting the room.
I was alone. With her.
"So," she sighed, going back to sit down at her desk. "Why don't you sit down and we can go over some things." She didn't look at me when she spoke this time, her eyes were focused on the papers in front of her. Probably my papers.
"Why am I here?" My raspy, stone-cold voice broke out, echoing through the tiny office. A flash of disdain shone in her eyes at my tone, but her mouth still curved itself into a tight-lipped smile.
"I will tell you if you could just sit down," she replied sweetly, motioning to the chair across from her. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at her, as I walked slowly over to the chair, sitting uncomfortably at the very edge of it. I was too tense to relax.
Dr. Reynolds cleared her throat, before flipping through my records briefly. "I'm assuming you heard about the asylum break out in California?"
My stomach clenched as I flashbacked to a week ago, sitting and watching the news, the sad, horrific news.
"Yes," I answered shortly, in a clipped tone. Her eyes flicked up to meet mine for a second, before looking back down at the papers in her thin hands.
"Well, that plays a big role in why you're here with us today."
My face scrunched up in confusion. She continued on.
"On January 1st, New Years, five mental patients broke out of California Hills Mental Institution. As a part of their revenge of all those years spent locked up, they proceeded to kill 55 innocent people in cold blood. They used anything they could find to kill them; tree branches, shopping carts, broken glass bottles, knives, forks, rocks. The scene was so horrific that it sent Americans across the nation into a panic."
"I already knew that," I said, not understanding what any of that had to do with me.
Dr. Reynolds folded her hands together on her desk, leaning forward slightly. Her blue eyes pierced mine, making me feel like I was under inspection. A chill went down my spine, as I slightly flinched from her gaze. I swear I saw her smirk at my reaction.
"Here's where it gets interesting," she continues. "The government, along with the FBI, who I know you're personally involved with, decided that to calm some of the tension, they would send anyone with a mental illness to a facility at once."
"So someone who's a schizophrenic, regardless if they're taking their pills and living a normal, healthy life, gets sent away still?" I was in utter disbelief. How could they do that? How had I not known?
She nodded. "Yes. It's unfair, I know, but there's not much we can do about it. They'll get released as soon as the paranoia subsides. Anyway, they're not the only ones being sent away."
She gave me a pointed stare, chilling me to the core.
"They decided that anyone who has the ability to think like or understand the mentally insane, should be sent away as well."
It felt like the air had been sucked out of my lungs. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move. I just sat there and waited for her to continue.
"The best psychologists out there, the smartest, the most skilled, the most valuable, they're all in mental hospitals now," she reported, a hint of sadness in her voice. Glad to know she has feelings.
"They can't do that," I protested, jumping up from my seat. "That doesn't even make any sense. Psychologists across the country are helping the mentally ill. They're not the crazy ones! I don't belong here!"
My voice was shrill. I was in denial.
Dr. Reynolds sighed. "Arie, look at it from a psychologist's perspective. What do people do when they're scared or paranoid?"
I averted my gaze, glaring at the hard-wooden floors. "They don't always make the right decisions," I whispered angrily.
"Exactly. The way they see it, is that if you can think and get into the mind of some of the craziest people on earth, aren't you crazy yourself or at least more likely to become insane."
"It's still not right," I breathed out shakily, feeling tears well up in my eyes. I wanted to go home and crawl in bed. But, I couldn't. I was stuck in an eerie office, talking to a cold, hard woman.
"No, it's not. But, there's nothing we can do about it. Arie, I've never even met you before, but I've heard of your reputation. You're one of the best leading criminal profilers in the country and you just started college. You don't have a degree, or prior experience, or anything. You're an eighteen-year-old girl with the ability to read people better than some of us who have to study years to get at the level you are already at. Don't you see how that would terrify them? What they're thinking is that what if one day you become crazy because you've spent too much time thinking and getting in the minds of those who are clinically insane? What if you become so obsessed with solving these crimes, that you'll do anything and everything to get them solved, even if it means doing the wrong thing? They believe that those who can think just like the mentally unstable, must be or can be just as unstable."
My blue eyes snapped up to meet hers. "I don't belong here," I whispered, my voice cracking.
"No, you don't," Dr. Reynolds agreed. "But, you are here and we'll take care of you until you get out."
If I get out.
She dialed a number on her phone, ending our conversation. "Yes, could you send up some nurses to escort Arie to her room. Ok, thank you."
Not even a minute later, two burly guys walked in the room.
"Alright, Arie, these gentlemen will escort you to your room. I'll be seeing you again soon." With that, she turned back to signing some papers, as the two guys latched onto my arms and escorted me out and down another hallway.
I was in such a daze, that I don't even remember how we got to my room. All I knew is that I was standing in front of a light brown, hospital-like door, leading to what would presumably be my room.
The taller one of the two guys released me to open the door. They pushed me in, closing the door behind them. I whirled around to peek out the small window on the door looking out into the empty hallway.
Who knew that in the next couple seconds, my life would change forever.
"Who are you?"
I jumped as a deep, husky voice spoke, sending shivers down my spine. I gulped nervously, my fingers clenched at my sides.
Looks like I have a roommate.