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“Why don’t you tell me why you’re here, Jim?”

I crossed my legs in an attempt to get comfortable, but it only made my sitting position worse. The fancy couches in Dr. Valencia’s office had less support than a deadbeat dad and she probably only chose them because it made the room seem like a still from a movie. It might have worked if I was a pretty young lady lounging about, but it only made me more uncomfortable.

“Well, I’m going to go to jail if I’m not here every week,” I replied. “That was the bargain.”

“That’s not really what I was asking about.” She knew the truth, but just wanted to get some sick satisfaction out of hearing me say it.

I kept my mouth shut and let her look like she was anticipating something for five minutes. If I could use up the whole hour doing that, I was set.

She tapped her fingers on her ledger. “You know, Jim, we’re having these sessions as long as we need to.”

I sighed. “I know.”

“So...?”

“They’re just worried about me. That’s why they’re paying for all this and making sure I show up every week.”

“Why would your former employer be worried about you, Jim?”

“They shouldn’t be, really.”

“Why don’t you tell me about your neighbor?”

Of course she knew about that. It hadn’t been my fault. Doreen was supposed to be asleep so late at night, but her damned dog had been whining to take a dump on the lawn—my lawn—and she started screaming as soon as she saw me halfway up the telephone pole. I was using a silencer, and only shooting at streetlamps, mind you, so it shouldn’t have been an issue, but she still called the police.

“A simple misunderstanding,” I told Dr. Valencia. “She runs up and down the street in spandex every morning, and I do target practice in the dark. Just because I exercise differently, I shouldn’t be punished.”

Dr. Valencia smacked her lips together. I could hear her foot tapping underneath her desk. “I was told it was a mess to clean up, and that your neighbor still thinks you’re a terrorist.”

“Please...” I scoffed.

“You know what’s going to happen if you can’t keep it under control, right?”

I paused, but I knew she wouldn’t give me five minutes to answer again. “Yes.”

“Then it’s all the more reason to continue. Why don’t we try this again? Can you tell me how you lost your job?”

I could have stalled for more time if I really wanted to, but I figured that the bigwigs in suits and sunglasses probably had her prepared to torture me if need be, and having bamboo shoots underneath my nails again wasn’t an option if I was planning to retain my sanity. So I told her.

“It was a mistake,” I insisted. “An accident. It just wasn’t on purpose. Some people still think that I did it because there was no other way, but I’m not perfect. Sometimes I slip up. I thought that I could do it.”

“It was still a serious slip up.”

“I know that. As soon as I returned to the office, they dragged me into a room, cuffed me to a table and made me go over every detail of the scene. Not just the wind conditions, cloud cover, or the number of people who had been standing down there. They wanted to know what was going through my mind at every moment. Did I judge the wind correctly? Was the sun in my eyes? Was the venue over-packed? Did I have to shoot?”

“Did you?”

“It was an accident. I should have made the shot.”

“Have you ever missed before?”

“No. I’m very clean in my operations. I don’t make mistakes.”

“What was different this time?”

“No one expected what he did. He knew somehow that I was coming for him, and he was prepared. I wasn’t, and maybe it just shook me up.”

She was taking notes the entire time, but I didn’t care enough to try to look. “I’ve seen all of the reports, but I want to know how you feel about what happened. You’d been at it for nearly fifteen years, with no prior issues. In a few days, it was all gone.”

“Yes.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

I shrugged. “Sure, I’d rather be working, but I understand why they let me go. They felt that not only was I incapable of performing at the same standard as before, but I’d also...you know...” She didn’t give me any indication that she’d start talking again, and waited for me to finish. “Snapped. I didn’t mind the break, since my house had been falling apart with me coming in and out of the country so often. It’s nice, though I still don’t want them meddling in my life anymore.”

“You understand why the Bureau will always be a part of your life, right? I know you’re without a job, Jim, but you’re still with them. People like you know a lot of sensitive information. They’re concerned that if you’re left to your own devices, it could happen again. You know...the snapping. That’s why I’m here to help you. I only care about that. I do have to report to your old superiors after each of our sessions, but my interests lie with you.”

“Can you write me a note that tells Doreen I’m not a terrorist?”

She smiled for just a moment. “No, but I can get you back into shape. And who knows, a year from now, you could have your job back. That’s what you want, right?”

I sighed. “I don’t know about that. Maybe right now I just want the nightmares to stop.” I said it before I could take it back.

“What do you dream about, Jim?”

Though she was getting me to open up, as slight of a victory as that probably was, I didn’t want to show her all of my cards yet. I shrugged and gave some vague descriptions, but as I did this, all I could feel was a light breeze at the top of a six-floor office building. I could see his eyes staring down my scope, daring me to shoot, and the fear radiating from his shield. I could still smell all that blood, even though I had been far enough away not to.

Description
“Why don’t you tell me why you’re here, Jim?”

I crossed my legs in an attempt to get comfortable, but it only made my sitting position worse. The fancy couches in Dr. Valencia’s office had less support than a deadbeat dad and she probably only chose them because it made the room seem like a still from a movie. It might have worked if I was a pretty young lady lounging about, but it only made me more uncomfortable.

“Well, I’m going to go to jail if I’m not here every week,” I replied. “That was the bargain.”

“That’s not really what I was asking about.” She knew the truth, but just wanted to get some sick satisfaction out of hearing me say it.

I kept my mouth shut and let her look like she was anticipating something for five minutes. If I could use up the whole hour doing that, I was set.

She tapped her fingers on her ledger. “You know, Jim, we’re having these sessions as long as we need to.”

I sighed. “I know.”

“So...?”

“They’re just worried about me. That’s why they’re paying for all this and making sure I show up every week.”

“Why would your former employer be worried about you, Jim?”

“They shouldn’t be, really.”

“Why don’t you tell me about your neighbor?”

Of course she knew about that. It hadn’t been my fault. Doreen was supposed to be asleep so late at night, but her damned dog had been whining to take a dump on the lawn—my lawn—and she started screaming as soon as she saw me halfway up the telephone pole. I was using a silencer, and only shooting at streetlamps, mind you, so it shouldn’t have been an issue, but she still called the police.

“A simple misunderstanding,” I told Dr. Valencia. “She runs up and down the street in spandex every morning, and I do target practice in the dark. Just because I exercise differently, I shouldn’t be punished.”

Dr. Valencia smacked her lips together. I could hear her foot tapping underneath her desk. “I was told it was a mess to clean up, and that your neighbor still thinks you’re a terrorist.”

“Please...” I scoffed.

“You know what’s going to happen if you can’t keep it under control, right?”

I paused, but I knew she wouldn’t give me five minutes to answer again. “Yes.”

“Then it’s all the more reason to continue. Why don’t we try this again? Can you tell me how you lost your job?”

I could have stalled for more time if I really wanted to, but I figured that the bigwigs in suits and sunglasses probably had her prepared to torture me if need be, and having bamboo shoots underneath my nails again wasn’t an option if I was planning to retain my sanity. So I told her.

“It was a mistake,” I insisted. “An accident. It just wasn’t on purpose. Some people still think that I did it because there was no other way, but I’m not perfect. Sometimes I slip up. I thought that I could do it.”

“It was still a serious slip up.”

“I know that. As soon as I returned to the office, they dragged me into a room, cuffed me to a table and made me go over every detail of the scene. Not just the wind conditions, cloud cover, or the number of people who had been standing down there. They wanted to know what was going through my mind at every moment. Did I judge the wind correctly? Was the sun in my eyes? Was the venue over-packed? Did I have to shoot?”

“Did you?”

“It was an accident. I should have made the shot.”

“Have you ever missed before?”

“No. I’m very clean in my operations. I don’t make mistakes.”

“What was different this time?”

“No one expected what he did. He knew somehow that I was coming for him, and he was prepared. I wasn’t, and maybe it just shook me up.”

She was taking notes the entire time, but I didn’t care enough to try to look. “I’ve seen all of the reports, but I want to know how you feel about what happened. You’d been at it for nearly fifteen years, with no prior issues. In a few days, it was all gone.”

“Yes.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

I shrugged. “Sure, I’d rather be working, but I understand why they let me go. They felt that not only was I incapable of performing at the same standard as before, but I’d also...you know...” She didn’t give me any indication that she’d start talking again, and waited for me to finish. “Snapped. I didn’t mind the break, since my house had been falling apart with me coming in and out of the country so often. It’s nice, though I still don’t want them meddling in my life anymore.”

“You understand why the Bureau will always be a part of your life, right? I know you’re without a job, Jim, but you’re still with them. People like you know a lot of sensitive information. They’re concerned that if you’re left to your own devices, it could happen again. You know...the snapping. That’s why I’m here to help you. I only care about that. I do have to report to your old superiors after each of our sessions, but my interests lie with you.”

“Can you write me a note that tells Doreen I’m not a terrorist?”

She smiled for just a moment. “No, but I can get you back into shape. And who knows, a year from now, you could have your job back. That’s what you want, right?”

I sighed. “I don’t know about that. Maybe right now I just want the nightmares to stop.” I said it before I could take it back.

“What do you dream about, Jim?”

Though she was getting me to open up, as slight of a victory as that probably was, I didn’t want to show her all of my cards yet. I shrugged and gave some vague descriptions, but as I did this, all I could feel was a light breeze at the top of a six-floor office building. I could see his eyes staring down my scope, daring me to shoot, and the fear radiating from his shield. I could still smell all that blood, even though I had been far enough away not to.