“Was there any reason you picked out these men, specifically?”
Damnit. She’s got me.
“Yes.”
“Okay…can you elaborate?”
“They all…they all reminded me of Adrian a little bit.”
“Interesting,” she says. I hate when she says ‘interesting’.
“Why?” I ask.
“Why do you think you’d be interested in killing men who remind you of Adrian?”
“Because I didn’t kill him originally?”
“Could be. Does that sound right to you?”
“Well…”
“What?”
“Well, I mean, I guess that could be true like subconsciously or whatever…but um, more consciously I picked them with the intention of sleeping with them.”
“And I take it you weren’t successful in that?” she asks, looking up over her glasses. I glare at her.
“No.”
“Why not?”
I sigh. “I don’t fucking know.”
“Okay, let’s go back a bit – why were you ‘trying’ to have sex in the first place?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you make it sound like an unpleasant task – something to be crossed off a list.”
“That’s how it feels,” I say quietly.
“Why?” Liz pushes
“Because I’m trying to forget him,” I snap.
“You’d be surprised how normal that is Lola,” she says almost kindly, but then hardens. “But not the killing. That’s not normal, and it’s got to stop.” There’s a long pause. “So you didn’t actually sleep with any of these men?”
“No,” I say, my cheeks flushing with shame.
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Lola.”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I say, crossing my arms sullenly. We sit quietly for a few moments and she switches gears.
“What about the women…who were they? How did you know them?”
“They were carnival freaks…women who travel with sideshows and stuff…they were ‘strongwomen’,” I say curling my fingers in little air quotes on strongwomen.
“They were strongwomen?” she repeats the question, she sounds stunned.
“Yeah, I mean, they weren’t really, they were just buff regular bitches, but they called themselves strong women, you know, ‘World’s Strongest Woman’ blah blah blah.”
“Why did you kill them?”
“I was looking for something like me.”
“And they weren’t…like you?”
“Not even close.”
“And how did you feel about that…?”
“Disappointed. Pissed. Frustrated. Mostly offended.”
“Why did you have to kill them though, I mean they posed no threat to you if they didn’t have any power.”
“Why not?”
“Why not what?”
“Why not kill them? Just as good as leaving them alive.”
“See Lola, it’s horrifying to me that you’d say that. I mean, that kind of talk makes you…not only a serial killer, but also, probably a sociopath…but it doesn’t really match with what you said about Adrian. How you could have regret, or love someone, and also have a complete disregard for human life…it’s a strange kind of compartmentalizing…” she trails off, staring at me. She’s still afraid of me, but the doctor in her, or scientist, or whatever, is still curious. I shrug my shoulders.
“I don’t know. I mean, it’s why I’m here, I guess. I thought you could tell me what the deal is.”
“Do you think of Adrian now?”
“All the time.” It comes out faster than I mean to say it and it surprises us both.
“You still love him?”
“I guess I do.”
“Interesting,” she muses.
“I hate that answer.”
“Well Lola, this is all very complicated. You’re very complicated. I’m going to have to think, and you’re going to have to think too.”
“All I do is think about it,” I snap. I’m annoyed. Why the hell would I be wasting my time with her if I could figure out what’s broken about me on my own?
“Is this what you meant before…when you said you wished you’d asked more questions of Delia before you killed her?”
“Yeah.”
“You mean because you think she could have explained some of what you’re going through…that she might have experienced it herself?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think she ever loved anyone before?” The question hits me like a bullet.
“I – I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it much.”