[ WP ] You 're a Professional Group Therapist in a mental hospital and you 're beginning to suspect that two of your patients are robots .

The clock on the wall said *3:41*. We had been sitting in a silent circle for almost four whole minutes. 
 
 I reached to the table next to me and picked up my styrofoam cup. Still warm with coffee, I held it in my hands for a moment as I looked around the group. Silence can be uncomfortable, but I have found it can also be a useful tool. 
 
 Jack, a new member of our group, interrupted the silence. 
 
 `` What is the purpose of this?'' he asked. `` In other words, what is it we are supposed to be gaining from this?'' 
 
 Jack had only been in group for three weeks. He had brought his friend, Robert, and neither of them spoke much. Although when they did speak, they were inquisitive. Suspiciously so. 
 
 `` Well,'' I said, keeping my voice low. `` Sometimes it's important to allow everyone room to speak on their experience. Often, we can find ourselves claiming space for those who might identify as being in a minority group.'' I was annoyed, but I tried to hide it. 
 
 `` Minority group.'' Robert said. It was n't a question, and not really a statement. It sounded like he was memorizing those words. 
 
 `` Yes,'' I said. `` Remember last week, we discussed group dynamics, and some might take the one-up stance, while others take the one-down.'' 
 
 Robert and Jack nodded. It was weird. They nodded together, but not just at the same time. They nodded... *synchronously*. 
 
 Naiya, a girl in her late 20s, raised her hand. 
 
 `` Yes, Naiya?'' I asked. 
 
 `` I would like to share something.'' She replied quietly. I was grateful. Naiya was of Middle Eastern descent. Given her cultural background, her ethnicity, and her gender, she very often took a one-down stance to her counterparts. 
 
 `` Yes, please, Naiya, the floor is yours.'' 
 
 Jack was staring intently at Naiya. His blue eyes seemed to probe hers. Robert, on the other hand, was slowly looking around the room. His head seemed to turn so gracefully, as if it were floating. 
 
 `` Well,'' Naiya said. `` I have noticed recently that I have been getting less at meal time. I told the lunch guy I was pregnant last week, like we spoke about, and since then I feel like he's intentionally hurting me.'' 
 
 `` Ah,'' I said, making a note. *Naiya has fears about the lunch hour. Speak to Frank? *. 
 
 `` Sounds like you're experiencing a confusing situation and you're unsure about your place at lunch.'' I said. `` Perhaps --'' Robert cut me off. 
 
 `` Do you think it's about your baby?'' He asked. His voice was monotone. He was curious, but it sounded forced. Naiya looked at him. 
 
 `` N-no.'' She said shyly, glancing at me. `` What do you mean?'' Jack took over. 
 
 `` Maybe Frank wants you to lose your child.'' Jack said, matter-of-fact. I raised my voice. 
 
 `` Jack, let's let Naiya tell us what she thinks that means --'' I stated. Robert cut in again. 
 
 `` Perhaps your child is a threat to the future of the human race.'' Robert said. Both Robert and Jack were looking at Naiya emotionless. I had enough. 
 
 `` Robert, Jack, why do n't we end for today? I'll talk to you both in your individual sessions tomorrow.'' 
 
 Jack turned and looked at me, his eyes boring a hole in my head. 
 
 `` No.'' He said. 
 
 `` Excuse me?'' I asked. Naiya shrunk back in her chair, pleading with us to calm down. I stood. 
 
 `` Both of you leave. Now.'' I was going to get to the bottom of this. 
 
 Jack and Robert stood. I did n't realize how tall they were until now. They both stepped toward me. I was scared. Instinctively, I threw my clipboard at them. Jack batted it away, and they both kept advancing. Suddenly, the doors opened, and two nurses rushed in with a security guard in tow. 
 
 The nurses grabbed my arms, pulling me away. The security guard stepped in front of both Jack and Robert, keeping them at bay. I was grateful for the intervention. 
 
 The nurses pulled me back and sat me down, hard. I looked up at them, pulling my arms toward my body. 
 
 `` Thank you, both, I'm fine --'' They caught my arm, and pulled it back out. I tried pulling them back in, with no luck. I tried standing, and one of the nurses shoved me back down. 
 
 `` What is the meaning of this? I'm *fine*!'' I insisted. I tried standing again, and the nurses called the guard over. They stood me up, and I could hear the chair move away from me. With a hard shove, I found myself with my back against the floor, my head having hit the tile. 
 
 `` Stop!'' I yelled. What was happening? 
 
 `` Stop, please!'' I yelled again. `` Help me! Please help!'' 
 
 I looked at the group, who were all standing now, watching. I struggled, and could feel a sharp pain in my side. A needle. I lost it. I kicked and swung my legs, the security guard doing his best to avoid it. I felt myself be pulled up to my feet, and rushed to the door. I leapt, using the nurses as leverage, and kicked at the doors, but to no avail. 
 
 Swiftly, they moved me down the hall way. I screamed at bystanders, asking them for help. The security guard lifted his radio. 
 
 `` Inmate 747. Phillips, Alex. Please open door 747.'' He barked into the radio. 
 
 I could hear gears turning, that metal-on-metal grinding as a solid steel door slid open. The nurses pushed me in. I could n't understand what was happening, but I could feel the effects of the shot they gave me. I felt weak, subdued. I felt tired. 
 
 They lowered me to a concrete frame with a thin mattress. It was n't much, but I was exhausted. 
 
 I watched as the nurses and guard exited the room, the heavy steel door closing behind them. 

