I can't believe I'm doing this.

She really can't.

I settle into the cliche shrink's couch and rest my head on what I'd assume to be the armrest, looking up at the ceiling and not bothering to make any eye contact with the psychiatrist at all. Hell, I wasn't even too willing to see what he or she looked like at this rate; I'm only here so that Kara can feel better about herself, knowing she was the one who "convinced" me to make this appointment in the first place.

"Kendall."

The shrink's voice was definitely male; a man with a deep, boisterous voice. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, along with the first words I scramble together hastily to shoot out in response to his call for my attention.

"Mmhm?"

Or, word. Not even a word. Whatever. It was a sound that signified that contrary to what he was probably thinking; I actually am paying attention to what he's saying. So, slightly agitated that he'd think I'd spend I don't even know how much money just to do nothing, I decide that the best course of action would be to continue looking up. Not for a second entertaining the notion that maybe I should look the person who's supposed to be helping me work through my problems in the eyes. Curse my passive aggressive nature.

Bless her passive aggressive nature.

"Hmm, alright then. Can you tell me what's been troubling you?"

"No, I can't."

Obvious sarcasm dripped out of my mouth and dribbled down my face after I finished spitting out that sentence. To which I respond my wiping my lips with the palm of my hand while still keeping my eyes pointed up. The stucco ceiling wasn't particularly fascinating at all; it really was something underwhelming though I don't know what else I expected from a ceiling in a shrink's office. Maybe I thought if I looked up hard enough, I'd see the whole of space staring back at me.

Though for some reason, I can't take my eyes off it.

Oh, poor baby...

"Okay, do you want to get better?"

"What kind of a question is that? Do you think I'd just waste money frivolously?"

"No, but I do think you've been pressured into it. I spoke to your girlfriend on the phone; she's quite the domineering one."

Yeah, that was Kara alright. Wait a second!

"Girlfriend? No no no, she is not my girlfriend okay? She's just my roommate. That's it."

Again, I try to look away from the ceiling only to find myself unable. Not as if by force, not at all. No, like an infatuation; even though I know there's nothing special about it. Nothing intriguing. I still find myself intrigued. I can hear the shrink laugh, or well croak I guess would be a better word for it as he slams his hands down atop the wooden surface of his desk. It echoes, the sound does, repeating over and over again, long after it should have ceased. It's like the noise is playing on infinite loop in my head. Only to stop when the shrink clears his throat and in an almost accusatory tone bellows out:

"This is a judgment free zone, Kendall."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You can be honest here."

"No, seriously. We aren't dating. Gah, every time. Every time! It gets pretty old having people think that; worse yet when after you make it clear that it isn't the case, most people still think it is. So no. For the last time, Doctor, she is not my girlfriend."

I don't even know why I'm so angry. My heart's racing and if I could look away from the ceiling I'd be shooting him a death glare right about now. No amount of deep breaths calm me down as the pounding in my chest doesn't increase but rather stays exactly the same while the sound of his hands hitting his desk erupted out of the ensuing silence that prevailed after my little tirade. Once again it echos over and over, drilling past my eardrums on a quest that seemed unable to end. Not until it burrowed deep into my brain it seems.

While my eyes remain locked onto the miniature stalactites hanging down from the stucco ceiling, I rub my temples with the index and middle finger of both my hands. It works enough to alleviate some of the pounding headache the incessant pounding noise is giving me, though mostly by replacing it with a headache derived from attempting to break through my skull with only two fingers.

"Are you alright? You seem tense."

"Oh, I am."

Was that a chuckle? Why would he be chuckling at that? Weird sense of humor?

"Why are you so determined to not look at me?"

"Wish I knew."

Really shouldn't have said that aloud but oh well. After everything else that's happened here that's hardly the oddest part of this session. At least we're off the topic of my sexuality. Though looking past some incredibly superficial thing like that should mean that the incredibly deep part of this conversation would be rearing its incredibly ugly head in some point much sooner than I'd like so now my mind's racing with ways to veer the conversation back to the previous topic so I can just say that nothing gets me excited and spend the rest of the hour or however long I have left coming up with theories for why that is. At the very least he doesn't know anything about me because he was called by Kara and she doesn't know why I'd need a shrink.

Well, besides my recent relapse of course.

"Let's talk about Samuel Klein."

"What?"

"Samuel Klein. Come on Kendall, don't play dumb. You aren't very good at it."

"Did you just--?"

"Did I just what? Ask you a question? Why yes. Yes I did."

I want so badly to look away from the ceiling. My mind's occupation with it is long gone but now I can't even move my head. No matter how hard I try, I can't move my head. Not an inch.

"Answer me. Who is Samuel Klein?"

"If you know of him, you must know who he is."

"Gangster. Jewish. Horrible person. I know all that, but I need to know specifically he is to you."

"Why?"

Just then: my phone goes off. On silent of course but nonetheless vibrating against my leg as I slide my hand into my pocket and pull the phone out. I don't know who's calling and I don't care. I answer the phone and press it up against my ear.

"What the serious fuck Kendall? I ask you to go get some help. I go so far as to book an appointment because you can't be bothered and you don't even fucking go?! Oh, when I get up there, you are so dead bitch."

"What? You're out of your mind; I'm at the shrink's now."

"Yeah bullshit. I'm in the apartment's parking lot. Your car's here. What, did you take the bus or something?"

"I'll call you back."

"I'll be inside in a couple minutes. You can explain why you ditched the appointment then. For fuck's sake I will drive you to the next one. Bye."

With a click the call goes dead.

Well, this is a problem.

Once again I try to pull myself away from the ceiling but surprisingly this time I do. I actually peel my eyes away from the stucco! My eyes fall from the ceiling to across the room, to where the shrink sat at her desk.

Wait, her?

My eyes widen as they scan the room, not only from the shock of that but as on the wall adjacent the door I walked into the office through I see scrawled in blood one word.

Klein.

"Oh. Curses."

The same baritone came from the woman's mouth. Whatever it was, it wasn't big on subtlety.

"What the hell is going on?"

"You still haven't figured that out?"

"How could I?"

"Look at your hands."

"Don't change the subject!"

"Look. At your hands."

Reluctantly, I do. Only when I do, do I find them reddened, damp with something that I guess is blood but how come it took until just now to realize that?

"Because I wanted you to. You're in my world now Kendall and nothing can save you except the fierce hand of divine intervention. When you're cast in pitch; your body bruised and broken lying face down in the planet of ice that I call my home, crying out for the Void to swallow you whole I want you to know one thing.

This was all your doing."

Bang! That was the sound of my not realizing it, but the window back behind whatever the shrink really is swinging horizontally and smashing into the wall adjacent it like a door would. Wait a second, it is a door. A door that Kara's walking through right now. I blink a few times and the office fades out of my vision, replaced with the familiar setting of my apartment. I'm not lying on the shrink's couch no, I'm on our couch which has been pushed closer to the center of the room.

Why isn't she yelling at me?

With a gulp, I peek back behind me to see that right by the window that I saw as a door was one word, scrawled in blood.

Klein.

I look back to my hand, wherein the center of both I see blood and a carving.

Two Vs. One on each hand.

"What did you do?" she asks in a confused, frantic, and downright terrified voice.

And with wide eyed surprise and terror literally dripping off every word in the form of excess saliva, I say back:

"I don't know."