Tick. 

Tock. 

Tick. 

Tock.

The man seated in the chair opposite me sits relaxed in his chair. Head rested back and arms resting on each side of the arm rest. In one of his hands is a pen which he is playing around with. Spinning it around and around in his large hand. His slightly ruffled hair showed an immense amount of effort dedicated to each hair strand planted on his head. His outfit consisted of black jeans and a plain blue shirt which looked effortlessly put together. He lifted one of his legs and placed it on his other. His eyes looked into the distant space ahead of him, his eyes dark and deep like the black hole.

I look at him from my seat, take hold of the clipboard placed on the table in front of him and open my mouth.

“Mr. Jung? Mr. Daehyun Jung? Can you please recount to me the events that happened that night?”

One second.

Two seconds.

Five seconds.

Ten seconds.

Twenty seconds.

Forty seconds.

One minute.

“Mr Jung? Are you alright sir?”

Still no response.

I sigh as I close my eyes and massage my temples. I open my eyes to see that he is still in his own  imaginative world.

I sigh again, place my clipboard back on the table and clear my throat.

“Mr Jung. If you want me to help you, then you must allow me to,” still receiving no response from the man, I plead, “I understand that it’s hard for you but you must try. You must make it your priority to learn to trust me so that I can help you.”

“I don’t need your help.”

His words came out sharp, cold and rough.

“I’m afraid to tell you but you do. I see that this conversation is leading to nowhere. We’ll continue at our next scheduled session. Please follow the guards and leave through the door on your left.” I promptly reply, staring up to retrieve my belongings.

I hear the guards enter the room to take this man outside. I hear some struggling and turn back to see the man trying to lunge at my neck while the guards hold him back and call for back up.

“I DIDN’T KILL HER! I DIDN’T KILL HER! I DIDN’T KILL HER! GO ASK YONGGUK! I DIDN’T KILL HER! I DON’T ANY OF YOUR DAMNED STUPID COUNSELLING!” He yells at the top of his lungs.

I stand dumbstruck as one of the assistant psychiatrists enter and inject him with some sort of liquid.

He immediately calms down and appears to be drowsy.

“I didn’t kill… her.” He whispers as he is hoisted up by one of the guards and carried out to his manager.

My eyes blink automatically a couple of times before resting on a familiar object on the ground.

It was his pen.

I sigh yet a third time before reaching down to pick it up. I kick at the chair in frustration and throw the pen in along with all my belongings in my bag.

“Welcome to your first day at work Nadia,” I mutter to myself, “Good luck dealing with these six psychotic idiots.”