For Nevermore Season 1

expressionless scribble.
    “And how does this one make you feel?” Dr. Foster asked, looking at Noella through the coke bottle lenses of his thick-framed glasses.
    Dr. Foster looked like he was in his mid-50s, with salt-and-pepper scattered curls sprouting from his permanent case of bed head. His eyes were dark but kind, and his face reminded Noella of the sad you see in a basset hound. His sad face made it easier for her to trust him, especially when he was scribbling her prescriptions.
    Dr. Foster continued to stare at Noella, patiently waiting for her answer.
    “I dunno,” she said. “Why are we doing this again ? We’ve already done it a million times! I don’t see how telling you what I see helps. It’s just ink. I could easily see something different today than I did last week.”
    “Exactly,” Dr. Foster said, holding the card steady. “This gives me insight into your current thoughts, and is absolutely necessary. We will continue with the exercise until it no longer has value. I promise it’s for the best and that I have no desire to waste your time any more than I care to waste mine.” He smiled, cleared his throat, then added, “Let’s finish the test, and then I’ll answer any questions you have, okay?”
    Noella nodded and said, “Okay.”
    Dr. Foster held up the next card.
    The card looked sexual and Noella felt a flush of embarrassment. She said, “A bearskin rug?”
    Dr. Foster scribbled on his pad, then set the card facedown on the right and pulled a fresh one from the left. The next card wasn’t an inkblot. It was a glossy photo of Mets Hat’s ashen corpsep; a crime scene photo.
    Noella’s eyes went wide and she started to choke, turning away from the image while coughing.
    “What do you think of this one?” Dr. Foster asked, his voice even and hands steady on the image. “How does it make you feel?”
    Noella couldn’t look.
    “Why are you showing me this?” she asked, pushing the question past the lump in her throat. “How did you even get it?”
    Dr. Foster laid the photo facedown on the right, starting a new pile just above the old one. “Your uncle told me what happened.”
    “He’s not my uncle,” Noella said, annoyed.
    “Why didn’t you tell me about the robbery?”
    “Tell you what? There’s nothing to tell. I blacked out.”
    “So you don’t remember seeing what happened to the robber? How he was somehow thrown to the counter and burned alive in front of you?”
    “I didn’t do it,” Noella said, leaning forward on her elbows. “This isn’t like what happened two years ago. And I don’t need you putting me on different pills. The ones I’m on are working just fine.”
    Dr. Foster stared at Noella, his eyes still kind and his basset hound face still sad. “So you haven’t been experiencing any symptoms?” He said it like a question, even though it wasn’t. Noella paused, uncertain of what she should say.
    I can’t tell him the truth, can I? If I start with one thing, I’ll end up having to tell him everything: The hallucinations, Dante, Katie’s murder. Sticking with the lie is easier than spilling it all and having Dr. Foster mop up the mess in my mind with a brand new prescription.
    Dr. Foster’s radar had always been excellent, and Noella feared something worse than a change in her pill’s color. If she lied and the doctor knew it, he might feel compelled to suggest that she check in for another stay at Kings Point “for observation.” And at Kings Point, three days could turn to three weeks with the stroke of a pen.
    Noella didn’t want to be locked up again, couldn’t be locked up again.
    Not only did she hate the place and loathe the thought of going back, the little she had left of her shattered social life would crumble to dust. People were still calling her Scarella two years after her first visit. There would be no hope of escaping the cruelty of a second stay.
    “What sort of symptoms?” Noella said, delivering the question before her brain had a chance to realize what she was saying.
    Too late, Noella. You just confessed by suggesting you have some symptoms.
    “Anything,” Dr. Foster said. “Hallucinations, voices, blackouts, suicidal or violent thoughts, abnormally weird dreams, anything out of the ordinary. If any of that is happening to you Noella, then you must tell me now so we can figure out why; run a few more tests and adjust your treatment accordingly. We need to help you now, before things turn worse. Things