Page 8 of Scar

Today, I finallygetto see my schizophrenic patient that I'd had to institutionalize in the fall. I've made sure to get notes from the facility throughout his treatment, but this will give me more of an idea of how he's doing. I'm hoping he's well enough that we can resume twice a month sessions.

I've been stretching myself so thin to stalk Maeve. I've even double dosed a few patients so they're docile enough to have fewer sessions. Someone should institutionalize me for fuck sake.

I've clearly lost my mind, and it's all because of the ethereal brunette that is sitting in environmental conservation class right now. She doesn't like that class, she's always upset by the end of it. Even when she walks into class in a great mood, she walks out looking upset. I wish I knew why. I wish I could storm in there and make sure not one of those little shits is disrespectingma petitefleur.

I've figured out her schedule, I know who her friends are, what she does in her spare time, where she works, and what she eats. But I haven't figured out if she'll be leaving Texas when this semester is over. On one hand, I need her to leave, I need to let this obsession go. But on the other hand, if I see her try to leave me, I'm tempted to kidnap her. I can't have her. But I can't just not see her. Last week, when I left town to pick up a patient's abusive mother, it killed me that I couldn't see Maeve for almost two days. I missed her so much that I almost pounded on her door when I got back into town, just to see her.

I've also been doing new shit, just to be like her. Just so that if I finally talk to her, we have more in common. I have a flower garden. Me! I grow flowers because Maeve loves flowers. She grows all kinds of stuff in her garden, it's beautiful.

Every day, when she walks to class, she stops and smells the flowers at the shop down the street from her apartment. Even when she's running late, she always smells those flowers.

One day she was running late, she hadn't even left her apartment until after her class had started. She still stopped. She still smelled those flowers and told the cashier good morning. That was the day I went into the flower shop and bought every type of flower she admires in the mornings.

They grow along the entirety of my house now. At least I finally have a use for all those bones.

I wonder if Maeve would like the flowers I've planted? I bet she would. Without even meaning to, I've been making my house more accommodating for her. I've been making sure if she's ever mine that she'll be happy here. I eat less meat, I buy more produce, I don't eat as much pasta as I used to.

In the last six months of stalking her, I've never once seen her buy pasta. Or bread. It's strange, but I have to admit I've never felt better. I lift heavier at the gym, I don't get tired as often when I'm killing, I sleep better. It's been nice. Maybe this girl is onto something with her ways of eating.

My session goes exactly as expected, my patient is only better because he's overmedicated. I hate that, but I also know he needs that. This man is a danger to himself and society. He's proven that time and time again.

Every time we lower a dose, he gets violent. Every time he stops taking his medication, he ends up arrested. Every time he gets arrested, I have to drive down to the station with paperwork proving he is not of sound mind.

The whole thing is exhausting, so while I hate that he's basically a zombie right now, I can't change it. I've been promoting electric shock therapy for him for years. It has mixed results on schizophrenic patients and is mostly an outdated practice. But this man has no chanceof areal life without something radical. Maybe I'll take him home and do it myself? I have all the tools…

Fuck, no. I can't do that. If I fail, he'll never trust me again and I know it was hard enough to get him to trust me.

I end up leaving his dosage the same, intending to plead my case for ECT again to the psychiatric board of medicine. We'll see how it goes. But for now, I have a gap in clients. I have to go seema petitefleur. I have to check on her before she gets out of her least favorite class. What if she's upset and needs me? I can't miss that class dismissal.

Realistically, I know she's not going to need me. We haven't spoken since that day at the grocery store. She doesn't even know that I've grown an obsession so strong that I love her. As long as I can control myself, she never will. She can live a normal life, just with me in the shadows making sure nobody ever hurts her.

I rush out of the office, reminding my secretary to forward my calls to my cell phone, and hop to my car. I'm thankful I'm only a few miles from campus, and at this time of day, the streets are pretty dead. So it only takes me a few minutes to reach campus and park right out of visibility from her lecture hall.

I have an alarm set for when I know my girl will be leaving her class, so until then, I can scroll through emails.

I've told myself a thousand times that this had to stop, I needed to leave this goddess alone. But I can't. Something pulls me to her, something dark and possessive. She's mine. I just can't have her, but I can watch her.

Right on schedule, Maeve walks out of her lecture hall. Just like normal after this class, she looks upset. She avoids eye contact with her classmates, and she keeps her head low and her eyes to the sidewalk as she speed walks away from everyone. I don't know how to find out what is upsetting her about this class.

I know she records her classes. Maybe I could break into her place and listen to it? No, that sounds psychotic. That crosses a barrier into insanity, one I am not ready to cross. Yet. I could talk to her professor? Maybe he would know who is cruel towards my goddess. Whomever it is will not be given mercy. She's been upset every single week leaving this lecture, not once has she smiled coming out of this class. Not once has she spoken to anyone from class.

I'm still watching when I see Maeve swipe a tear from under her eye. That's it, I'm going in there. But what's the lie? I can't just go in there like some kind of concerned boyfriend, ready to kill whoever bullies my girl. Can I? No, of course not. Fuck! I have to think of something else. Otherwise, I am going to have to break into my girls' apartment.

Chapter 10

Maeve's POV

Today was the last environmental conservation class before finals. We have two weeks with a break, and then we take our final. It's the school's way of guaranteeing at least two hours a week to study for it, the two hours a week we would be in class. I like that the school is considerate enough to think about that, about the busy students. It's nice. If only my professor was nice.

Every single week, my professor targets me. I'm the girl who's killing the environment.

First, it was my spray deodorant, so I switched to all natural deodorant. It smells like blueberries, and I swear I've been chased by bees a few times already.

Next, it was my shoes. He lectured about killing animals for fashion is sick and twisted, that me not eating animal products is wasted by wearing suede shoes. He wouldn't even let me tell him the suede was vegan.

Every week, it's been something different. But it's always me. I haven't seen him target anyone else, ever. I don't understand why I'm the only target.

The man that sits in front of me, he drives a big, gas guzzling car and eats steak every single day! He doesn't pester him about his impact on the earth. I don't get it. I don't understand what I did wrong to piss this guy off.