Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

If you think you’ll get a reply by your constant, inept tapping, you are mistaken. You are merely the doctor of the week, hired by my own father, to torture me, to make me think I’m wrong.

Tap.

I am not crazy.

Tap.

He knows that I know the truth.

Tap.

Stop.

Tap.

Stop it! If I had the use of my hands, I’d rip that pen out of your hands and force it where the sun doesn’t shine. How much did my father pay you to put me in this get up? Or is it just for your psychotic mind games?

Tap.

It will not work on me. I am not delusional. I know the truth.

Tap.

I know the truth!

Tap.

“Mr. Luther, if you do not plan on speaking your thoughts on the matter-“

Tap.

I do not plan on sharing my thoughts with you- you will just twist and distort them to your will, or rather my father’s will.

Tap.

I will survive this. You must remember that I am a freak of nature- I am invincible. I will win.

Tap.

No one can rescue me now- no one can rescue me from myself. I am far from delusional- I know the truth now.

Tap.

I am alone, but I shall conquer.

Tap.

“Very well, Mr. Luther. I will be back tomorrow for another session and please be sure not to talk my ear off.”

Gladly.

The end.