The thin woman in her late thirties that was about 5'7" tall sat cross legged in the living room, her eyes fixed on the television screen. Her short blonde hair looked a mess and she didn't look interested in what she was watching at all, she looked lost in thoughts, away from reality.

"What if I never met him and we never had Annabelle?" She thought.

"What if he didn't have schizophrenia and Annabelle wouldn't have to suffer?"

" I guess it doesn't matter anymore," she whispered unknowingly to herself.

All she had to do was show Annabelle the love, care and attention that she's been denied from for years. What if the reason Annabelle didn't have any regard for anyone's life was because no one has ever shown any regards towards hers?

"What if I'm the reason she's this way?" Freya whispered.

She never really got love and attention while she was younger. Since Freya was a single mother, most of the time, she was always out working so Annabelle was used to being home alone. While she was much more younger, Annabelle loved to seek attention but she eventually gave up one day when she saw that whatever she did never worked.

Freya recoiled in shame as she thought about what she had turned her child into.

"I really am the reason she's worse than how she's supposed to be." She muttered.

She came to a final conclusion of accepting her daughter the way she was, maybe, just maybe if she stayed beside her more, loved her more and supported her more, she would get better, she would eventually start responding positively to treatments and they would no longer have the strained relationship they had now.

Nodding satisfactorily at her decision, she turned off the television and stood up to go back to bed. She jumped slightly and placed her hand on her chest, her heart racing wildly as she saw Annabelle stand silently at a dark corner of the room.

"You scared me," she said almost breathlessly, " are you okay?" She asked.

" Probably." Annabelle answered, walking slowly towards her mother, "what do you think?" She added.

" Do you want to talk about it?" Her mom asked, silently praying that she would agree.

"Sure." She agreed with a small smile and Freya looked taken aback.

"Wait, really?" She asked.

"Surprisingly, yeah." Annabelle answered. " Wanna go for a ride?" She asked and Freya frowned slightly.

" Uhm, I'm not sure, it's probably like three am and if it wasn't obvious, it's dark outside." Freya said.

" Sass."

" Do we really have to go out?" Freya asked. "Can't we just sit at home and talk about it like normal people?"

" Except that we're not normal people." Annabelle corrected.

" You are very normal Ann." Freya said with a disapproving stare.

" This isn't the time for you to make me feel better about myself." Annabelle replied with a slight eye roll.

" It's not l--"

" Are you going on a ride with me or not?" She interrupted.

" But isn't it dangerous?" Freya asked, glancing outside unsurely.

" Don't worry, it's fine, nothing would happen." Annabelle reassured, "except you're afraid of the dark," she added with a shrug.

" It's not the darkness, it's just--"

" Nobody hurts you except me, I'll make sure of that," she interrupted.

" That's supposed to make me feel better but it doesn't." Freya said with a slight frown.

" Ride or not?" Annabelle asked again and Freya was silent for a while.

This could be the time for her to make up for lost times, after all, she had promised to accept her daughter the way she was so she had to do just that. She sighed after thinking for a while and nodded.

" Fine, I'm coming." She reluctantly agreed.

"Sweet, I'm driving!" Annabelle exclaimed with a smile.

" Ann--"

" Don't worry, we'll be fine," she said with a wide smile. " Maybe," she added with a small laugh.

" You have Anhedonia Ann and you've smiled a lot this night." Freya said. "Too bad I can't tell the difference between your fake smile and your genuine smile," she added.

" I don't have a genuine smile, all my smiles are fake." She answered.

"Ohh, thanks for telling me that." Freya said as she grabbed her jacket and got her purse from the counter top.

Was that a good start to them rebuilding their relationship?

She walked to the door where Annabelle was waiting, holding the keys skeptically in her hands as she looked at Annabelle.

"What?"

"Are you sure you're okay with driving?" Freya asked.

"I brought the idea, so of course I am." She answered, taking the keys from her mom's hand as they walked out of the house.

"Drive safely please." Her mom pleaded as she reluctantly got into the passenger's seat of the car.

"Sure." Annabelle drawled out with a grin as she revved the engine to life.

"That grin again," Freya muttered. "The look on your face and your tone," she added.

"What?"

"It's scary." She shuddered slightly and Annabelle chuckled.

The car ride was slow and silent, neither of them knowing what to say to each other.

"Do you have something to say to me?" Annabelle asked, her eyes still fixed on the road ahead.

"Why'd you ask?"

"You've been staring at me since I started driving." Annabelle replied and Freya chuckled awkwardly.

" It's been a while since we had a proper conversation and am I not allowed to stare at my daughter?"

" Mother, spit it out!" She ordered and Freya sighed with an eye roll.

"I've been thinking and I've realized that maybe the way I've treated you over the years, could've played a part with how you handle life today so I've decided to be a better mother for you, I'll always be beside you, loving you, assisting you, giving you all the love, care and attention you need." She said with a slight nod.

"Ooh."

"Ooh?" Freya repeated with a frown as she faced her daughter.

"Ooh." Annabelle said again.

"Wha-- I didn't say all that for you to tell me ooh." She whined.

"What were you expecting?" Annabelle asked.

" Nevermind, I've also promised to accept you the way you are," she said.

" You weren't accepting me before?" Annabelle asked.

" That's not the point," Freya said and Annabelle chuckled lightly.

" Okay."

" How's your studies going?" Freya asked after a while.

"Fine."

She nodded slowly as she looked out the window, the car ride was really slow. "Well, how are you in general?" She asked.

"The truth?" Annabelle asked and Freya turned towards her.

" Yes, please."

"When this monster enters my brain, I will never know but it is here to stay. Society can be thankful that there are ways for people like me to relieve myself at times by daydreams of some victim being tortured and being mine." Annabelle said, her eyes never once leaving the road.

If this isn't fucked up, I don't know what is.

" I am so sorry love." Freya sympathetically stated. "That's why you have to listen to Elenora, she's a good therapist, you know?" She added.

"I try."

"Do the pentagrams really have to be drawn on your hands?" Freya asked, her eyes fixed on the symbol on her daughter's hand.

Annabelle's eyes trailed down to her hands and she glanced at her mother. "It is a symbol of faith," she said.

"You did say it always twitched," her mother replied.

" Well, does it matter?" She asked with a shrug.

"It does, if you unconsciously shout hail Satan after it twitches, occasionally." She stated matter-of-factly.

" I don't do that unconsciously." Annabelle replied in a low voice.

" Uhm sorry, what?"

"It's something a serial killer I read about does." She said with a shrug.

"Okay, wait. What the fuck?"

"What?"

"You read about serial killers? Why are you reading about serial killers and imitating them?" Freya rushed out.

"Because I like them," she replied with a shrug.

" What is wrong with you?!"

" You did say you'd accept me the way I am," she said with a small laugh.

" Why are you laughing? There is nothing funny about this and I said I'll accept you the way you are but I don't want a serial killer being your role model!"

" Wow, shouting at me and telling me what and what not to do," Annabelle said with a small smile.

" That isn't what this is about, you have to choose another role model!"

" No."

" What do you mean No? There are so many other people out there that are befitting role models to you." Freya argued.

" Yeah, like?" Annabelle questioned.

" Like--"

" Don't you dare mention yourself or Elenora," Annabelle cut in and the place became quiet.

Freya sighed. "Baby listen to me, serial killers being your role model won't help you get better, you'd get worse. I want the best for you that's why I'm asking you to stop having them as role models, please."

Silence.

" Is the pentagram drawing another serial killer thing?" Freya asked.

" I think."

" Dammit!" She exclaimed as she punched the dashboard. "Are you planning on being a serial killer?"

"I've thought of it." Annabelle answered with a shrug and Freya groaned.

" Why are you saying this so casually?"

"That's how casual it is."

"By the way, do you really daydream about victims being tortured to relieve yourself?" She knew what the answer would be but she needed to be sure herself.

" Yes."

" This is really fucked up. When last did this happen?" She asked.

" When I got back from therapy session yesterday."

" Does Elenora know?"

" No."

" Why didn't you tell her?" She asked in a small voice.

" She never asked." Annabelle replied with a shrug.

" Annabelle, it doesn't matter whether she asks or not, tell her whatever it is you feel, she's your therapist after all. All you have to do is listen to her, talk to her, take your correct dosages and do as she says, then you'll get better."

" If I do all that, it could make me feel suffocated and I might kill her," she replied with a small laugh.

" Not the death threats again," Freya said with a groan.

" Besides, I'm used to being this way." She added, with pursed lips.

" Don't be, it's affecting your mental health a lot."

"There is a big complicated game my monster plays, putting victims' number down, follow them--"

" Wait, what are you talking about?" Freya interrupted, looking weirdly at her daughter.

" Checking up on them, waiting in the dark--"

"Annabelle."

"Waiting, waiting--" she repeated slowly.

"Baby, what are you saying?" Freya asked, her voice laced with obvious fear.

" Waiting--"

" H-have you killed s-someone before?" She stuttered, refusing to believe it.

Her breath hitched as her fingers trembled. Annabelle paused and glanced at her mother and what she did next knocked breath out of her mother.

She smiled and nodded.

"Waiting--"

~~~~~~~

Don't commit the crime if you can't do the time, but look at the times when the 'time' was unbelievable.