I drove up the hill to Greystone, keeping my eye on the cold empty road as my mind raced. New Year's is depressing as hell when you're alone so what did I do? I spent New Year's Eve in my little house, alone, thinking of Lily, alone in a sanitarium.

Dr. Hawthorne had been right, she was worse than I had originally thought. On our little outing all she talked about was this guy Marcus who would come to her in the middle of the night and "take her" as she put it. Again, here I was, instead of looking at what was so obvious to others, and by no means being hidden from my face, falling in love with a mental patient. On New Year's Eve I made a deal that if I was to continue in the field of psychology, I was not ever going to date any of my patients. This is probably obvious to most, but for me it was necessary to make a conscious choice.

My day was filled with filing in Dr. Hawthorne's outer office. Six five foot cabinets and an uncountable amount of reports. I suppose Dr. Hawthorne figured he needed to pull back on the amount of time I spentwith the patients since he felt I was getting too involved too quickly. He was right to do so, so I didn't mind, and was relieved to swim through some paper work. I had been sifting for hours when I stopped for some tea. I headed for the cafeteria by passing several patients' rooms when all of a sudden I felt a sharp jab in the middle of my back and I was pulled into a closet, a janitorial closet. I couldn't see who it was behind me, but quickly I knew it was Steve.

"Steve!"

"Shut the hell up." The voice was strange. "I heard you been messing around with my Lily."

"We're just friends. She's my friend."

"That's not what she says. She said you want to fuck her brains out."

"Not true." He jabbed the sharpness deeper into my back, easily able to puncture my skin.

"Marcus, she talk about Marcus?" He asked. At that moment I knew it was Steve, but was surprised at his emotions.

He swung me around to yell directly in my face and my breath stopped. It was Steve, disguising his voice. "I just don't want anybody else's slimy hands on her. She belongs to me. You understand?"

I stuttered, "I do, I do."

"Well, it don't matter if you do or you don't cause I'm gonna slice your head off." He pulled closer into me and I could feel my skin break.

"Killing someone is like killing yourself." I muttered.

He started laughing uncontrollably. "What do YOU know about killing?"

"Steve---"

"Who are you talking to?"

"You. Don't do this. Don't make another mistake."

"Barbra didn't know that I was her God who was tired of her. I'm goddamned pissed that she never knew it was me who murdered her and I want you to know that now I'm you're God and this God is going to slice the life right out of you!"

With all my might I lunged forward, pushing him against the wall and his head hit hard. He pushed the knife in deeper to my back when I kneed him in the balls. He dropped his hand and I took off into the corridor. Warm blood fell down my back and soaked my clothes. I yelled for security as I held the door closed against Steve's pounding. I wanted to cry. Pressure built behind my eyes, but again I just yelled down the hallway, "Security, somebody get the fucking security!"

Steve pushed harder against the door like some caught animal, but I had him trapped as the footsteps of running orderlies approached.