You 're a therapist in charge of helping 3-5 people all affected by the same serial killer but in different ways . [ WP ]

`` Hi... my name is Sam.'' 
 
 The last of three parients to arrive at my small, inner-city office had a notable tremor to her voice as she spoke. Making her nerves even more evident, Sam glanced around the room with unease, never allowing her eyes to settle on any one crack in the cement wall or leg of the unstable bar stools set in a circle for my first session on losing a loved one. 
 
 `` Hi, Sam.'' My voice was the only to respond, despite my encouraging gaze towards the woman in the red dress with short black hair and tired eyes, then towards the middle-aged man dressed in a business suit and breathing out a sigh that told the room he had more important places to be. `` Why do n't you tell us a bit about why you're joining us today.'' 
 
 Sam reached her dainty hand up to her blonde hair, twirling a strand around her finger as she began, `` Well, I recently lost my little brother-'' Sam's voice choked to a halt as her face strained in her effort to hold back tears. 
 
 Sam could n't have been more than 18 years old, and her unwashed hair combined with her baggy sweatpants and torn t-shirt on top of her struggle to tell her story indicated the wear of her experience in losing someone so young and so close to her. 
 
 `` It's okay Sam. Maybe we should go on with introductions and come back to you later?'' 
 Sam nodded, avoiding eye contact as she slunk onto her stool. 
 
 `` Hi, I'm John.'' The businessman wasted no time in taking his turn, probably in an effort to get back to the work place after our mid-afternoon meeting. 
 
 `` Hi, John.'' 
 
 `` We all know why I'm here. I lost a loved one. My girlfriend, Jane. It was tough at first, but I've accepted what happened and I know that life goes on whether they ever find her body or not.'' 
 
 `` Well, John, it's good to hear that your loss has n't been holding you back... but sometimes it's important to allow yourself to greive.'' 
 
 `` No. That's what they say, but I recently uncovered some very interesting information while sorting through Jane's journals, and now I know that, being the kind of person she was, she does n't deserve my greivances.'' 
 
 I paused, unsure of how to proceed. 
 
 `` Let's move on,'' John snapped, taking a seat and gesturing to the black-haired woman beside him. 
 
 `` Hi, I'm Katie. I'll just get right to it,'' she said, glaring at the impatient man beside her as she unfolded her legs and rose from her seat. `` I found my nephew in his playroom, dead.'' 
 
 I took a moment to collect myself and responded, gently, `` I'm so sorry, Katie. Would you mind telling us how this happened?'' 
 
 Katie swallowed and forged ahead, `` He was stabbed. Twice. Once in the heart and once in the stomach.'' She took a deep breath as a tear escaped her eye. `` He was only eight years old.'' Katie whisked away the tear with a carefully polished finger, the red of her nail not far from the red of blood. 
 
 Before I could console the poor woman, Sam jumped in with an impossibly shaky voice, `` Eight years old? Stabbed in the heart and stomach? That sounds exactly like what happened to Ryan!'' Sam was already in tears, using the sleeve of her stained shirt to wipe smeared make-up from her cheeks. 
 Unsure of what to do and wishing I had chosen a different career, or that at least John would rush an end to this session, I looked across the circle to see a remorseful scowl cross the man's face. 
 
 `` John, is there something you would like to say?'' 
 
 John blinked slowly and turned to the clock. `` Jane... she wrote with a great deal of detail...'' As John's voice trailed off, I feared I knew where this was going. 
 
 Then, suddenly, as John realized his mistake in incriminating the woman he loved, he jumped to his feet and swung his stool across the room at Sam, who crouched in fear as it hit her square on the forehead, knocking her unconscious. 
 
 `` John!'' I yelled in vain, as John turned to Katie and punched her in the nose. The gush of blood is all I remember seeing before losing sight of the incident following a very solid kick in the spine. I lay on the ground, hearing only the sound of Katie's screams for seconds before their abrupt ending, at which point I could make out the click of heels across the cement floor, then lips on lips. I flipped myself over, carefully, and forced myself to focus through my blurry vision, making my way through the spinning room to what I hoped was the exit door. 
 Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. I instinctively reached for the pain with my right hand, only to hit an arm. I reached with my left to feel the handle of a knife move away from my stomach as blood covered my hand. My attacker knelt beside me and pushed me onto my back. 
 
 `` I'll greive for you.'' I heard John's voice, then a snicker, as the woman leaning over my torn body dug her knife into my heart. 
 
 I knew I would not be the final victim of Jane and John. 

