"This is why I need therapy."

A week ago, in a spacious room in which most of the furniture and the walls were painted white, a blonde man in a white coat was handing a prescription note to another man in casual clothes.

"I don't think I will need this." Jerrod nonchalantly said while he folded the prescription note and kept it inside his wallet.

"It's good if you don't, but keep those pills in case you will."

"I will be fine, thanks to you."

The blonde man smiled and felt proud of Jerrod's current trust in him. He remembered the first time he gave Jerrod a perception as he slapped him with the note and the pen he used. Also, he recalls their first sessions, where Jerrod just went silent and scowled the whole time. He knew they forced Jerrod to see him and was unconvinced of the effectiveness of the therapy, but to look at him now. Jerrod accepted his perception without hesitation.