I walked in to Dr. Kregg's office the next day, no parents this time. They've loosened up a bit and don't follow me everywhere, but they are still staying at my apartment.

"Hello, Katie. How are you today?" Dr. Kregg asked.

"Same as last time: I'm fine," I sat down.

"Good to hear. Now, I've reviewed your file some more and got some input from your nurses, doctor, and even your parents about when you got back and I have some follow up questions," he told me as I nodded in response. "First, you said...Jason never hurt you, but it's been reported that you do have a bruise on your arm. Is that true?"

"Yeah, but it's nothing. It was just an accident."

Dr. Kregg got his pen out, prepared to write. "Can you tell me what happened?"

I took a deep breath and remembered that day. I think it was the angriest I've ever seen Jason. "We were arguing and...he got so angry that he grabbed the object closest to him and threw it...and it hit me..."

"If he threw it at you, why do you say it's an accident?"

"When it first happened, I thought it was on purpose...but then the next day...he tried distancing himself so he wouldn't hurt me, and then said all he wanted was for me to be happy..." I recalled, more fond of the memory now that I'm thinking of it. "And now that I'm remembering...when he threw the clock that hit me, after he did it he instantly had a look of...sadness. Regret," I shook my head and looked down. "It wasn't on purpose."

There was silence, and I believe Dr. Kregg was taking note of something. "You...don't seem to have the usual feelings of hatred or fear towards your captor. Why is that?"

"Because...he didn't have the usual intent once I was taken. He wanted me to be happy, he just doesn't have experience doing that and didn't know how to do it the right way..." Jason told me so many times that he took me so I could be happy, have no cares and just do what I want. I heard it so many times, and I never realized it but I actually believe it now. Once I accepted it, and he started to control himself, I was happy.

"You seem to be defending him. After what he's done, whenever someone brings it up you defend him."

I looked up at Dr. Kregg. "I'm not defending the action of...kidnapping. But...everyone keeps saying that he's done such terrible things to me when...he only tried to make me happy."

"Were you?"

I stared at Dr. Kregg, unsure what to tell him. But it slipped out and I replied, "Yes." He raised his eyebrows and I quickly tried to explain without giving too much away. "Well, once I got to a certain point...I...I..." I didn't know what else to say, I couldn't take it back now but I also could t find a good way to twist it.

Dr. Kregg wrote one last thing before setting his pen down, folding his hands together, and looking at me. "Listen...I'm sure you've been told many times that this case is really unusual, and...I have a diagnosis for you that's also pretty rare. I believe you have what we call Stockholm Syndrome."

I sat there, staring at him and wondering how to react. Sad? Upset? Disappointed? Then...I got more aggressive feelings. I shook my head at him. "No."

Dr. Kregg raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"I don't have Stockholm Syndrome, that's impossible."

"Stockholm Syndrome feeling sympathy and defending your captor, and you show signs..."

"I know what it is!" I raised my voice and stood. "But I don't have it! I can't, because Jason never had the intent to hurt me! He never tortured, abused, or whatever word you prefer to use...he just wanted me happy. So maybe I'm defending him, but that's because you're all making him out to be a monster!" I started rambling. All people think about is what he's done in the past, but he never did any harm to me! That's why I don't have anything marks, malnourishment, or anything!

"Miss, if you would please calm down..." Dr. Kregg motioned me to sit.

"No, if I have Stockholm Syndrome, then I guess Jason must have...Lima Syndrome! Because he felt sympathy towards me! But the issue there is again, he never abused me, and he never planned to!"

Dr. Kregg reached under his desk, and being a psychologist myself, specifically one who worked with criminals, I knew he was pressing a button for help. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "No need to escort me out, our session is done," I told him, turning around to leave.

"Actually, your session is far from done, I didn't ask for help to escort you to leave," he said.

I furrowed my eyebrows and turned back around. "I just watched you press the button under your desk. I know what that means."

The door behind me opened and two people came in, taking each of my arms. "See? I know what's happening," I sighed, walking away with the people now.

They led me down the hall, but once we reached outside they continued to lead me and not to my car. "Um...I can walk to my car myself," I spoke up.

"You aren't stable to be driving," one of them said, then stopped at a van. They opened the door and put me in.

"I'm fine, I can drive myself home," I assured them as they got in the front.

"You aren't going home, not today," the other said as they started driving.

"What do you mean?" I asked cautiously.

"You're being sent to the nearest mental hospital."