Sneak Peaks for Corrupted
“So, you’re a psychiatrist,” said Lucy, in an amused tone, “and your best friend is in jail for assault?” Robertson gave a small chuckle at her assertion.
“Yeah; that’s pretty much the size of it.”
“I think I like you just a little bit more,” she grinned.
“Glad to hear it,” he replied, “he gets out in 3 months, if he continues his good behaviour. Our friend is a lawyer so that’s hopeful.”
“No such hope for me though Doc,” proposed Lucy contritely and Robertson looked up from her file then rested his chin in his hands and put his elbows on the table. He sighed, unsure how to respond to her question, so there descended an awkward silence between them.
Have you ever done this before?” he asks, and I smile at him.
“Once but the guy…. let’s just say he wasn’t too pleasant,” I explain sweetly, “I’m hoping it’s a case of second time lucky.” I mentally want to high five myself and yet slap myself in the face at the same time; who did I think I was? I hope he can’t tell I’m lying. It was Halley who told me to not tell him this was my first time, otherwise he might try and take advantage. Michael leans back in the armchair and brushes his hand through his untidy black hair, which actually makes him look extremely sexy.
“You are not what I expected,” he states finally. At first, I panic slightly, but then he grins to reassure me that’s not a bad thing.
“Hmm,” I start, suddenly feeling confident, “I’ve always found expectations to be a poor example of another man’s dream.” Heavens alive, I cannot believe the crap that is coming out of my mouth, I didn’t even know I could sink to such depths of self-deception. It’s like I’m this whole other person right now and the strange thing is, I kind of like it.
It was Wednesday, she was curled up in the armchair of the recreation room with a book about a coven of witches, when Remy walked over to her with a face like thunder.
“Well, it finally happened,” she snapped, “my Mum is now in control of all my assets including me.”
Lucy did not even look up from reading her book and merely replied, “that sucks.” She secretly wished that Remy would leave her alone.
“Just a little bit!” Remy retorted, “but I have a plan.” Lucy sighed; it was clear that Remy was determined to chat. She folded the page of her book and put it down on her lap before looking up at Remy. “I’m going to make a plan to escape here,” said Remy seriously, “and I wondered if you wanted to join me.”
“She’d hate what I’ve become. I don’t mean that as in…I mean she’d hate how I’m always so angry and bitter about everything, but I can’t help it…I’ve got nothing!” Robertson kneeled on the floor next to Lucy and placed a hand on her shoulder to comfort her.
“You do have a choice, Lucy,” explained Robertson quietly, “you don’t have to be bitter and angry. You may feel like you have nothing, but you have a lot of people who care about you.” Lucy pulled her face up covered in tears and brushed his hand away from her shoulder angrily.
“YOU MAKE IT SOUND SO EASY!” exclaimed Lucy, covering her head with her hands, “I CAN’T FEEL ANYTHING…. EXCEPT ANGER AND DESPAIR! IT’S NOT A CHOICE… it’s a prison sentence; more so than being in here!” She put her head down again and began to sob earnestly into her knees. Robertson taken aback, moved closer and rubbed her shoulder; this time she did not protest.
Suddenly they all froze as they began to hear loud voices nearby and for a moment all they could do was look at each other in fear. Then Remy gestured to Lucy and Max to move as close to the building wall as possible, so that they could use it as cover. They had only moved a few yards ahead when suddenly a bright big flashlight started moving all over the side of the building and Remy shouted “RUN!”
Lucy didn’t need telling twice, as she started to sprint like she was aiming for the Olympic gold medal. Just as she was sure that they were about to be caught, they saw the staff car park. Remy arrived first and dove behind the nearest car, Lucy and Max followed her and ducked out of sight of the huge flashlight still moving up and around the building.
I shiver as I make my way down the dark street. People pass me, many of them drunks heading for the nightclubs. They don’t even look at me or come near me; it’s almost as if I’m invisible or diseased. I don’t expect their sympathy, but I do wish they would acknowledge me; acknowledge that I’m a person!
