[ WP ] Misguided or not , every villain has their own motives , their own personality . Write a story about the therapist who works with them .

It had been near a week of me sitting in the same room as my patient, trying to coax him to say anything. He never did. He just sat there in angered silence, occasionally letting out a small cackle. They had tied him to the bed, afraid he might attack me. They had every reason to be afraid. The last therapist was still in the hospital. 
 
 His words were so quiet, at first I did n't realize he said anything at all. He looked at me expectantly, a sad expression upon his face. 
 
 `` I'm sorry, what was that?'' I inquired. 
 
 `` Forget it...'' he muttered. 
 
 `` No, please,'' I replied, perhaps a bit too eager. Would this finally be the breakthrough I had prayed for? `` What did you say?'' 
 
 `` I said I like your bracelet,'' he answered. 
 
 `` My bracelet?'' 
 
 The patient nodded. `` Reminds me of my mother's. Hers was gold, not silver, but I remember how much she loved it.'' 
 
 `` What was she like?'' I asked. *Finally*, I had a way in. 
 
 `` She was...'' He paused, frowning deeply. `` There were five of us, all cramped in a tiny one bedroom apartment. My dad was constantly drunk. We were causing her trouble. She was n't like those women you see on television, but she did the best she could.'' 
 
 `` And you loved her?'' 
 
 He nodded once, a frown on his face. `` Gave her a bracelet like that for her birthday. I spent hours performing in the streets for it. Got just enough for a bracelet and a piece of taffy. She wore it for weeks, showing it off proudly to her friends. It was the one nice thing she ever had and she loved it.'' 
 
 I felt a lurch in my stomach. Somehow, these tales always seemed to end with a'but'. `` What happened?'' 
 
 `` Same thing that always happened. My dad needed the money for more liquor. Stole her bracelet. She cried almost all day. When he came home, she screamed at him. So -- WHAM -- right across the face.'' 
 
 I flinched. I could imagine the small boy cowering with his siblings. The mother on the ground. I knew the story, but it was never easier. The children always suffered for the mistakes of their parents. 
 
 He continued his story, tears welling in his eyes. `` I never saw her smile after that. She'd been hit before, but she'd never seen how cruel my dad could be. Her one nice thing -- the thing I got her -- and he took it away. I always said if I ever met a nice girl like my mom, I would n't treat her like that.'' 
 
 `` Yet you treat plenty of people bad,'' I pointed out. 
 
 He nodded, frowning. `` Each time I get out of here, I try to live my life right. One time, even had a wife and kid. They're... gone now.'' I could hear his voice break as he said it. `` An old... friend from my past found me. Blackmailed me into running some con and when I failed, he made sure I'd remember. These bruises, broken bones, and shattered teeth are nothing compared to the scars of knowing I failed the ones I loved. My mother. My wife. My son. It eats at me until there's nothing left but a cold blackness.'' He paused. `` It's not all bad, though.'' 
 
 `` No?'' I inquired, hanging onto his every word. 
 
 He smiled at me and I felt my heart flutter. `` Even in the dark, we find our light. That one thing that keeps us hanging on. Last week, I met mine. I just did n't know it until now.'' 
 
 I jumped as the door alarm blared. A security guard walked into the room and for some reason I could feel the heat build up in my cheeks. `` Time's up. Warden wants him back in his cell,'' the guard said. 
 
 `` Just a little more time?'' I requested, a small panic building in my voice. I was so close to a breakthrough. So close to understanding the man behind the maniac. One step closer to rehabilitating this poor, poor man. 
 
 `` Warden says now,'' the guard replied. 
 
 I let out a sigh, but my patient smiled at me. I felt calmer just looking at his smile. 
 
 `` Do n't worry. We'll talk more tomorrow, Doctor Quinzel.'' 

