The thought of her coming undone under my touch was the driving force that kept me sane during what would be my last session with Brandon. He was my first and only patient this morning; two were discharged earlier this week, and I wasn’t due to have another session with Rae until tomorrow.
Thomas brought Brandon up to my office right on time, letting me know that he would be back at the end of the hour to escort him back to his room. The poor orderly needed a serious raise after dealing with the sick fuck for as long as he had. I wouldn’t have been able to tolerate him for that long without snapping his neck.
“What’s the verdict, doc?” He asked by way of greeting. I let Thomas inform him yesterday that I was due to have a conversation with his attorney on his behalf, to check in on how his progress was going, and to discuss what the prosecution was predicting the trial was going to lead to.
“Exactly what everyone thought was going to happen, Brandon. Your crimes can’t go unpunished in the eyes of the law.” I was seriously stretching the truth, but I wasn’t exactly lying. He was facing the ultimate punishment for his crimes. He just didn’t need to know it wasn’t going to be at the hands of a legal executioner in a jail.
“Of course, like any of you, upstanding gentlemen, have never done something like that. Like you’ve never had fantasies before.” His neck twitched as his new reality set in. Was he faking being insane? I doubted it. If it was an act, then it was deserving of an Oscar since I had yet to be fooled by a patient.
“There’s a difference between having a fantasy and acting on it, Brandon. We’ve discussed this. In the eyes of Virginia state law, both parties have to be consenting adults.”
“The little bitch consented!” Spittle flew from his mouth as he yelled. At least he was smart and didn’t move from his seat on the couch.
“Seven years old isn’t old enough to give consent, you’re not dumb, you know that. It’s time to face the music.”
“This is bullshit, fucking bullshit.” He muttered more to himself than anyone. I had to agree with him; what he had done was bullshit.
“Should we discuss how to look at your new reality when you leave here? Coping mechanisms? Or strategies to help you in prison?”
He barked a laugh as he answered, “There are no strategies that can help me, doc! You know what they do to guys like me behind those walls. They act tough, like my crime is the worst one that could possibly be committed, even though they’ve done things just as bad. You’ve got to help me, I’ll die in there.” There was no remorse in his plea for help, only desperation for self-preservation.
“Our prisons are well-maintained and very secure. I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. Those statements aren’t based on fact, they’re based on rumors.”
“You’re full of shit, Bradshaw,” he spat, the stress of his presumed reality obviously getting to him.
“Taking responsibility for your own actions is the first step in being able to progress past any of this. Would you rather they seek the death penalty? Where would you not have the opportunity totry and better yourself?” Picturing him rotting beneath the earth kept my tone pleasant as I fed him lie after lie. There was no way in hell a man like him would ever find a way to better himself. He was a repeat offender waiting to happen.
“The death penalty would be preferable to becoming some butch rednecks little bitch because the guards are too busy blowing each other.”
“We are here to try and come up with coping strategies to get you through this, though it sounds like you’re already giving up.” I made notes in my notebook dedicated to his sessions, keeping up with the portrayal of a depressed man who felt an extreme amount of guilt over what he did to his niece.
“Fuck that shit, man. Death would be preferable to having to suck someone off so they don't beat the shit out of me when the guards aren’t looking.”
“If you’re feeling suicidal, we can address that, Brandon. Maybe even talk to your doctor about changing your medications to help with those symptoms.” I don’t think I’d ever been quite as pleasant during one of his sessions as I was today. The light at the end of his miserable tunnel was calling me, and I was ready to help him get there.
“I’m not suicidal, you fucking quack! You can’t fuck young pussy if you’re dead, and I’m not about to give that up.”
“That’s good to hear that you’re not looking to end your life.”
“Whatever you damn quack, you get to walk freely out of here. I’d like to see how you’d act if you were facing what I was.” If only he knew, I face what he’s about to face every day when I look in the mirror. Judge, jury, and executioner looked back at me, and not one of them felt guilty for slamming the gavel down on useless wastes of space like him.
Brandon's bald head gleamed with a thin layer of sweat, the stress obviously getting to him.
“We will make sure you continue receiving the best care possible after your trial. Prisoners have psychiatrists and therapists as well. Though it’s not as nice as getting to stay in the comforts of the hospital's environment.”
“I won't be going to prison.” He was in denial, coming off his high horse. This entire time, he believed he was untouchable, even from the law.
“Brandon, we need to face the facts and have a healthy conversation about how to move forward. Denying what’s going to happen isn’t going to set you up for success after your trial. It will only make things worse for you.”
“Get it through your skull, doc, I’m not interested in making a plan or moving forward. I won't be going to prison, end of discussion.”
A knock at the door interrupted his tangent he was determined to start.
“Well, I’m sorry our conversation couldn’t be more productive,” I said as sincerely as I could manage, “I’ll let your attorney know you’re having a hard time with the sentence you’re facing, and I’m sure we will be in touch again before your trial.” Not a lie, though the next time I’d be seeing him, he wouldn’t be able to talk back.
I unlocked the door for Thomas, giving Brandon the best pitiful smile I could manage despite my growing excitement. For the rest of the evening, I had plenty of time to read more of Raelynn's journals and work out the final details of what would really be my last session with Brandon Everett.
June 9th 2021
