Chapter 177: The Wilson’s Double Murder Case VIII
20 years ago. Dr. Martin’s Office.
Sam lay there, on the couch during therapy--- a treatment that generally consisted of talking. The teen was well aware that the therapy also uses other techniques, including free association, exploration of the transference, observing defenses and feelings the patient may not be mindful of, and interpreting dreams.
Something she had been ongoing for weeks but still no sign of improvement. And like what she read from several critics, experiencing it herself, she had to agree that psychoanalytic therapy is too time-consuming, expensive, and generally ineffective.
They need another move. Another choice that will help her remember, she thought.
After a few weeks, she’ll have to go back to school, not that it bothered her; she enjoyed school---generally when they weren’t throwing paper balls at her in class.
On the couch, the redhead pouted, and she gave her psychologist the stink eye. "This isn’t working." she huffed, dissatisfied.
"You just need to be patient," Kevin said, writing down notes of her behaviors. "Patience," Sam whispered to herself, loud enough that the doctor heard of which caused his lips to tug up a bit. At least she was listening to him, he thought.
He looked at her, still lying on the couch with a determined look on her young face. Admittedly, she had surpassed his expectations; after all, it was often for genius children to not grow into genius adults, but from what he could see, with her, that wasn’t going to be the case. He had always thought her remarkable, since the moment she first spoke, with a British accent too. Which freaked him out a bit, and after almost ten years, she still had it---she was one tough cookie. She didn’t budge or tried to fit into society.
Sam turned to him with a glint in her eyes, and she proposed another means for them to get results. One that involved hypnotism.
It was a few days later when she returned for her session, by the way Dr. MArtin was looking at her, she knew something happened.
"What happened? Tell me,", she demanded, looking at him. Kevin sighed, "Your legal guardian didn’t consent to the hypnotism." he said, disappointment also evident in his voice, causing her to frown. "No, they did. You can call them yourselves!" she stated, confused; she had given him the signed consent form. Her Grandad even drove her to their therapy sessions-- So why the hell was he saying her legal guardian didn’t consent for the hypnotism?
’Unless....’ she thought, realization hitting her.