Davey smiled as he looked at the battered body of his former doctor, Melissa Casey. Her body was limp over the arm of her chair, Davey thought she looked peaceful if not for her bruised face, blood-soaked ivory shirt, and the butcher knife lodged in the left side of her head. Davey looked at his hands and clothes which had her blood smeared all over him. As he turned his attention back to her, her cold blue eyes stared back at him and he thought how pretty she seemed, even in death.
Of course, killing her wasn't anything personal. So he told himself as he looked at her lifeless body, at least. She had tried telling him again and again he was sick. She wasn't the first though. She wanted him to be different, just like all the others had wanted him to be all of his life. However he knew the truth. Davey looked at his right hand while tapping his fingers against the arm of his chair. No, he was completely normal. Just like everyone else.
But, he thought, what exactly constituted normal? What bozo decided what is or isn't? He would like to meet that person, for sure. Perhaps Dr. Casey would have told him. But she wouldn't be doing much talking now.
Suddenly, Dr. Casey sat up, with the butcher knife safely stuck in her head. "Davey! Davey! Are you listening to me? Davey!"
Davey jumped as his mind came back to reality and then looked at Dr. Casey. The butcher knife had disappeared along with the blood. Her face retained the beauty of her youth with no signs of physical abuse whatsoever.
"Sorry," Davey said. He looked at his blood-free hands as he avoided her watchful eye.
He didn't want Dr. Casey to know he had once again lost himself in a daydream, one that had almost completely broken him off from reality again. It wasn't normal. And he had to be normal. He wanted normalcy. He needed it. He had spent his entire life trying to fit in and conform to others ideas of what normal was. Not being able to made him angry.
Angry enough to kill. Time and time again. It wasn't his fault that all of his life everyone felt he was different.
"Lost in a daydream again?" Dr. Casey asked. "It's okay, Davey. But, I'm your psychiatrist and if you want these sessions to help you get better, I need your full attention. Can't have you wandering around elsewhere." Then she looked at her watch. "But, our time is up for the afternoon anyway. I'll see you tomorrow. Take care, Davey."
"Goodbye Doctor," Davey said.
The two stood and Dr. Casey nodded at the two male orderlies standing by the only entrance of the room. The four people left the room and the orderlies escorted Davey back to his room. They locked his room's door and their voices grew from loud talking to faint murmurs to non-existent as the orderlies walked down the hall.
Davey looked around his room in silence. It was his room, a room just like all the other rooms in the hospital. It was a normal room with the normal white walls, normal beds, normal barred windows. Davey rested on his bed and loved every inch of his room. He knew he had it all figured out.
One must be crazy to not want to be normal.