The Psychopath's Doctor

Wilson's Residence

KIMBERLY'S POINT OF VIEW

As the early morning hours crept in, I let out a low grunt that echoed my displeasure with the abrasive sound of my alarm clock. Its incessant beeping seemed to pierce the tranquility of the dawn with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop.

Shoes were kicked off carelessly, and there were empty cans of soda and snack wrappers littering the space, evidence of my late-night snacking binge.

With a resigned sigh, I took a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. I slipped on my well-worn flip-flops, which were desperately in need of replacement, and stood up.

The cold floor beneath my feet sent a small shiver up my spine, prompting me to jump into action.

I started to diligently pick up the clothes strewn all over my room, organizing my wardrobe with a sense of urgency.

I could still feel the adrenaline from my date with Scott coursing through me, a rush that made me eager to tidy everything up and restore some semblance of order.

My mind replayed snippets of our evening together, and I couldn’t help but smile, even as I cursed under my breath about the chaos I had created in my wake.

After several minutes of shoving clothes into drawers and neatly stacking shoes, I finally felt some sense of accomplishment.

Then, I paused, my energy waning as the reality of the morning sunk in. I tossed aside the last of the stray garments and headed towards the bathroom, shedding my clothes as I went.

Once inside, I grabbed the toothpaste and toothbrush, my movements slow and groggy as I blinked rapidly, trying my best to shake off the last vestiges of sleep.

The cool tiles beneath my feet contrasted sharply with the warmth of my skin, and I felt the need for a rejuvenating splash of cold water on my face.

As I squeezed the toothpaste onto my brush, I couldn’t help but anticipate the day ahead, hoping for a smoother, more organized one than the chaotic morning I was currently experiencing.

As I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I realized I looked like I had just stumbled out of a psychiatric hospital. My hair was a tangled mess, my clothes were wrinkled, and I could only imagine what kind of impression I would make if my younger brother, Royce, happened to catch me in this disheveled state.

I could practically hear his laughter ringing in my ears; it would undoubtedly be a field day for him if he witnessed my morning appearance.

I had a tendency to sleep quite erratically, but last night seemed particularly chaotic, as there were times I had even awoken on the cold, hard floor right in front of the bathroom.

“Thank goodness I managed to wake up early this morning before Royce could see me like this,” I thought to myself with a frustrated huff as I picked up my toothbrush and began the mundane task of brushing my teeth.

I was determined not to let my brother’s teasing ruin my day, even though in the back of my mind I knew he probably would find an opportunity to poke fun at me at some point.

Royce, my younger sibling, has a knack for finding the most irritating ways to bother me. He’s in his final year of high school, and while I know I should support him, I can’t help but feel a wave of relief wash over me at the thought of him leaving home to head off to college.

The idea of not having to deal with his incessant teasing and annoying habits gives me a sense of joy that’s hard to put into words. Just picturing my life without his shenanigans feels like a breath of fresh air, and I can hardly wait for that day to arrive.

However, today is shaping up to be quite a challenging one for me. I have a full schedule ahead, with numerous patients to attend to, and the thought of it fills me with dread.

Mondays, in particular, have always been overwhelming for me—a constant whirlwind of stress and anxiety. It’s a day that never seems to go smoothly, fraught with countless tasks that pile up all at once. Just thinking about the multitude of responsibilities I have lined up for the day makes my head spin, and I can't help but let out an exasperated sigh at the thought of yet another chaotic Monday looming ahead.

With a chuckle of disbelief, I shook my head and stepped into the bathroom, turning the faucet of the shower to unleash the cascading water.

The sensation of warm water enveloping my body was heavenly, and as the first droplets hit my skin, I couldn't help but gasp in delight, feeling every tense muscle begin to relax.

There was something rejuvenating about a warm shower in the morning; it felt as if each droplet was washing away not just the dirt, but also any lingering worries from the night before, leaving me refreshed and ready to face the day.

30 MINUTES LATER

After what felt like the perfect start to my morning, I stood in front of the mirror, a slight smile forming on my lips as I delicately applied a shimmering layer of lip gloss.

It was a small detail, but one that made a significant difference in how I felt. I paused for a moment, glancing at my reflection and thinking to myself,

"Okay, perhaps I’m not trying to brag here, but honestly, I look quite beautiful today." While I knew that I wasn't exactly the epitome of a classic figure 8, I felt confident in my average yet well-proportioned physique.

My breasts were comfortably nestled in that happy medium—not too large to feel cumbersome, yet not so small that they went unnoticed. A similar balance was found with my backside, which had its own delightful curves without tipping into excess.

My stomach was flat, and my waist tapered nicely, creating an appearance that many women often complimented me on, expressing admiration for my body shape.

It was always gratifying to hear such words of affirmation, knowing that my efforts at the gym and my focus on healthy eating were appreciated by others.

Lips had always been a standout feature for me, too. Time and again, people would remark on their unique fullness and beauty, declaring them eye-catching. I smiled at the thought, feeling a swell of confidence as I finished applying the lip gloss and placed it carefully into my bag, ready for whatever the day had in store. With my phone and a few important files in hand, I took a moment to gather my thoughts and say quietly to myself, "And... that's all," before making my way out of my room.

As I descended the stairs, the aroma of breakfast wafted through the air, mingling with the sounds of clinking cutlery. Mom and Royce were already seated at the dining table, engrossed in their meal. However, I immediately noticed that my mom's expression didn't seem to match the delightful scent of pancakes and freshly brewed coffee; she appeared somewhat unhappy, and an immediate wave of concern washed over me. The moment she caught sight of me, though, her face broke into a wide smile, a stark contrast to the sadness lurking in her eyes, as if she was trying to mask her worries behind a veneer of cheerfulness.

"My precious jewel," she said with a warm smile that lit up her face, and as if on cue, I let out a chuckle that filled the room with a lighthearted vibe.

"Good morning, Mom," I replied cheerfully, making my way over to the kitchen table where she was already seated, her presence radiating comfort and love. I settled down close to her, relishing the familiar feeling of being near someone I adored so deeply.

"Morning, my angel," she said, her voice sweet and melodic. "Here, I made your favorite," she added, gesturing toward a beautifully plated dish that instantly sent a wave of excitement coursing through me. I gasped in delight, my eyes widening at the sight of the delicious food that awaited me.

"Thanks, Mummy!" I exclaimed, genuinely grateful for her thoughtful gesture. Just then, I caught the sound of Royce scoffing from the other side of the kitchen, his playful expression adding a hint of mischief to the atmosphere.

"It seems like you left your manners on your bed after waking up," I remarked, feigning indignation, my tone playful as I huffed exaggeratedly in his direction.

"Sorry, I just wanted you guys to finish first," he replied, rolling his eyes in an all-too-familiar manner that only made me chuckle more.

"Wait... are you... jealous?" I teased, unable to contain my laughter, the sheer absurdity of the idea making it even funnier.

"Mom didn't prepare my favorite food," he retorted, crossing his arms defensively, "but she cooked yours. Tell me why the hell wouldn't I be jealous?" His exaggerated scoff echoed in the kitchen, causing both of us to erupt into laughter once more. It was a common occurrence; Royce had a knack for getting easily jealous, often craving the affection and praise that Mom showered upon us, particularly when food was involved.

"Well, I’m sorry, Royce," our mom chimed in, her tone gentle and reassuring. "I promise I’ll make your favorite food when you return from school," she said, a smile breaking across her face as if to make amends for the oversight. It was moments like these that made our family dynamic so amusing.

"Better," he said, a satisfied grin spreading across his face, his earlier resentment swiftly forgotten in the warmth of our laughter and the delicious promise of food awaiting him later in the day.

"Spoilt brat," I muttered under my breath, casting an irritated glare in his direction before returning to my food with a huff. The last thing I needed this morning was to be delayed by that annoying kid. I shook my head in frustration, thoughts racing through my mind about how this would mess up my schedule. I couldn’t afford to be late due to his whims.

Just as I took a bite, I heard his voice, timid yet persistent, calling out my name. “Urmm... Sis,” he said, and I immediately looked up from my plate. Whenever he uses that particular nickname, it almost always signifies that he’s about to make some kind of dubious request or ask for a favor.

“Yeah, what’s up?” I replied, raising an eyebrow expectantly, my mind already bracing itself for whatever he was planning to concoct.

“Could you please give me a ride to school today?” he asked, biting his lip nervously. I noticed the way his eyes darted around, a typical sign that he was trying to gauge my reaction.

“And why should I do that?” I countered, skepticism laced in my tone. “What happened to your drive?” I was curious to know why he suddenly couldn’t use his own means of transportation because I could see the glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

“Nothing serious,” he replied quickly, his voice almost pleading. “I just really want you to drop me off today. It’s so boring when he drives me to school, and I need someone to talk to. I would love to drive myself, but Mom still thinks I’m too young to handle it,” he continued, a slightly exaggerated note of exasperation creeping into his voice. I couldn’t help but scoff; I knew this punk too well. There had to be more to his request than simply wanting my company for a mundane car ride.

“Please, Kim,” my brother chimed in, using the tone that usually stirred my protective instincts. “You heard your brother. Please drop him off at school.” My mom’s gentle pleading cut through my annoyance, and I let out a weary sigh, feeling the weight of her request settle upon my shoulders as I forked another piece of food into my mouth.

“Fine, but you better not provoke me. If you do, I swear I’ll throw you right out of my car,” I remarked, my voice laced with mock seriousness. He nodded in response, flashing me a cheeky wink that suggested he was unbothered by my threat.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road,” I said, finally rising from my chair with a sense of urgency.

“What?? Are you serious? But it’s barely been three minutes since I sat down!” Royce protested, his brow furrowing in disbelief as he glanced at his half-finished meal.

I let out an exaggerated scoff, not buying his excuse for a second. “Come on, man! You’re supposed to be done eating by now. It’s been more than three minutes! Please don’t be the reason I end up late for work today,” I retorted, my impatience starting to bubble to the surface. Reluctantly, he stood up, but not before mumbling something incoherent under his breath that I couldn’t quite catch.

“We’re heading out now, Mom,” I called over my shoulder, leaning down to plant a quick kiss on her cheek — a gesture of affection that was second nature for me.

“Okay, sweetheart, you two take care! See you later!” she replied cheerfully, her voice light and full of warmth as we made our way out of the house and towards my car.

Once we reached the vehicle, both of us slipped inside; I wasted no time in starting the engine and backing out of the driveway, the hum of the car filling the brief silence that followed.

A few minutes passed with the rhythmic sound of tires against the pavement when I turned my head slightly to check on Royce. “Is something going on with Mom? She seems a little off today,” I inquired, curiosity piqued as my eyes remained fixed on the road ahead of me.

“I think Dad might be having an affair,” Royce replied, his tone suddenly serious, sending a chill down my spine. I gasped, shocked by the severity of his statement, and instinctively turned my head to look at him.

“Whoa, hold on! Can you please focus on the road?” he said, a hint of concern in his voice as I snapped back to reality, realizing how easily distractions could lead to trouble while driving. I quickly redirected my attention to the road, the weight of his words lingering in the air like an unopened package, full of unsettling possibilities.

"Why did you say that??"I asked wondering why he said that. My dad is a really calm person and he seem to love mom alot so why would Royce say that,I thought and bit my lips.

"I heard mom telling someone on phone yesterday evening, It seems like dad didn't actually go for a business trip but he's with another woman. Mom had cried so much last night"He said and I scoffed gobsmacked.

"Dad....... Dad is with another woman??, How could he do this to mom?"I said and scoffed unbelievably.

"I don't know too, Kim but I'm scared that mom might file for a divorce"He said.

"I still can't believe this,Poor mom. I'm so dissapointed in dad "I muttered with a huff adding a little speed.