The last psychiatrist appointment

"How is your sleep pattern?" The psychiatrist asked the girl while looking at the clock on the wall behind his patient.

"A pattern?. Do people have patterns? At night, I go to bed; whatever happens later is out of my control. I may think about killing myself or killing others. In between, I swim in the net. It is the most intertwined and complex network of all. Each word, image and sound is there like spaghetti, one over another. It is the most enormous plate you have ever seen. And then I think again; each word becomes a sentence, each image a memory, each sound a cruel reminder. Can you believe it is possible to think about only one thing 24/7? 

" Would you hurt someone? The psychiatrist asked while putting papers in order on the desk. He never looked at the girl.

" Why does anyone give a shit when I talk about killing myself, but as soon as I hint at the possibility of killing others, the firecracker explodes in their assess?." The girl asked without asking a question.

The psychiatrist looked at her this time, astonished.

" Ups, sorry, was that too much? I meant not; I didn't make any plans to kill anyone. I think about it. Don't you wish sometimes someone was dead? To think about murder isn't a crime. It is my cup of tea, my fresh air, and my pilates at 6 in the morning before going to work."

" What about your suicidal thoughts?" The psychiatrist asked, thinking he had now made the right question.

"They are ok. I will tell them you asked. You see? People are confused. They think only hopeless people have suicidal thoughts—people who cry desperately and decide to stop the pain once and for all. But there are other suicidal thoughts. Those who appear at night when you are already in bed. Like the craving for ice cream at 1 am. Now? When I am already in bed? So you get up and open the freezer, and you don't have ice cream left. So you decide to put on your coat covering your pyjamas and to go to the 24-hour petrol station to buy ice cream. Other times, you think, I go to bed again. Yes, suicidal thoughts work that way too".

" Listen. I am not your enemy ". The psychiatrist said, rolling his eyes.

" I never said you are".

The psychiatrist looked again at the clock before saying.

" We need to stop here. Let me check my diary." The psychiatrist took a notebook from a drawer." See you in 6 months." He said.

The girl stood up, walked to the door, and opened it. Before leaving, she turned back to face the psychiatrist.

" Do you know how many people you need to kill to become a serial killer? Don't worry, I'll tell you. 2 people, just two. How many people can I kill in 6 months?." The girl said.

The psychiatrist stood up immediately; the girl was gone.