Sighing, I follow Reed into the canteen and try not to flinch at the amount of guards that are in there. Being the new person and this being my first day, I really feel like the center of attention. If there's one thing that cringes me to the bone, it's that. I genuinely hate it.

I grab my bag and ask Reed if he can tell me where the room that I may use is. He insists on guiding me till I get there, but I tell him twice that I can find it on my own with his instruction beforehand and quickly leave after he trusts me with his keycard. It's actually near the entrance, not anywhere near the main halls, so I get there with a few turns and within a few minutes.

Unlocking it, I step inside the room that I will use for my daily conversations and let my eyes wander around it. The room is exactly how I expected it to be. It's dark because there's only a single window to let daylight in. The walls are painted in a dark shade of grey and there is one table with two chairs on each side in the center of the room. There is a light on the table, just like in crime movies. This is basically an interrogation room that they've assigned to me and it desperately needs a make-over to look like a normal therapists office. I can't even imagine myself having deep conversations in here.

Unlike what most people assume, having a deep conversation isn't about endlessly talking. It's about sharing your experiences, feelings and just thoughts in general. It's about connecting with fellow human beings through understanding each other and mutual appreciation. An encouraging environment, a safe space, is absolutely essential.

Before letting my mind drown in all sorts of ideas and inspiration for this room's make-over, I try to figure out the other thing that's been on my mind for the past couple of minutes. Something I can't seem to suppress.

That one inmate.

He was silent, so distanced yet so intimidating. The mystery behind his gaze drawing me in. I may have left behind his cell quite a while ago, but it feels as if he's got me captured. It terrifies me what that one moment was able to make me feel. It feels wrong and I'm pretty sure it is, but I felt so naturally drawn towards him.

Our eyes only met for mere seconds but it felt like I was locked into that one gaze. It was foreign. I've unknowingly locked eyes with strangers many times, but this time it was different. Not only because it was from behind bars with an inmate, but I also can't remember ever feeling stuck in that one moment. I've never found myself overthinking about someone, let alone that one moment.

Yet this time, here I am. Unable to put it out of my mind.

I have so many questions. Who was that guy? Why did I feel a connection right away? I can't help myself but think he felt the same way because he didn't look away either, nor did he try to break the eye contact.

He looked familiar somehow, though I'm pretty sure I've never met him before. But those eyes, the dark green shade of them. The way they did not lighten up, not even with the golden hour sun shining right into them. They're clearly hiding a story and so much sorrow. I felt it right then and there with just a single glance. No words were needed.

The blonde locks falling subtly over his forehead. The freckles just below his eyes, falling upon his defined cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

I swear I must have met him once; I can't think of any other explanation.

"For God's sake Brooklyn." I mumble to myself as I force myself to let go of the thought of this stranger. It feels like I'm desperately trying to connect him to my life, desperately trying to remember if we ever met as kids but it's nearly impossible.

What if he comes in for a conversation? I swear to God, if that thing happens again. The thing in which he just stares at me for seconds, how am I even supposed to properly talk? How am I supposed to treat this stranger like a stranger I'd like to get to know professionally so that I can understand and guide him towards inner growth?

Taking a sip of my bottle of water I prepare myself for what is about to come by taking out a recorder, notebook and a pencil. I must get rid of these thoughts so that I can mentally prepare for my first conversation. I do not want to screw this thing up on my first day already.

Since I am studying psychology and I must make a report on my whole experience during the months I'm here, I will always keep notes on my clients. That way I will be able to monthly look back and notice development in these detainees.  The recorder will record the daily conversations for me to store them and listen back to them whenever I'm trying to understand my clients better. They're only for me and no one will ever get access to them. I truly care about privacy so I will make this work.

I'm going to talk with them a few times in a week and I will spend the majority of my time in here. I even have the option to stay overnight whenever that's needed, due to my father working here a lot and me being terrified of being alone in a house. I'd rather stay with my issued father than alone, and that says a hell lot about how extremely afraid I am. How traumatized I truly am.

Some people may find it odd, even unusual, that someone with personal issues and a background of youth trauma would choose a major like psychology but for me it actually makes sense. I love to help people and talking with them to help them solve their problems is one of the things I can do. I did not have that person of trust when I was younger, which resulted in me coping in a way that was harmful to both myself and my surroundings.

I find it fulfilling to help other people and watch them be the best version of themselves. It keeps me going, it motivates me to wake up each morning knowing that I can make a small difference in someone's life and eventually in this world.

Of course, this time these people aren't just normal clients you could cross paths with. What makes the difference now, is the fact that these guys are murderers, thief's, abusers and rapists. I am afraid of what kind of people I will meet. However, I genuinely want to do this. Maybe I'm just being biased and prejudiced against them. I want to understand them. I want to know what led them to making that huge mistake and I want them to take a lesson out of it. I want to understand what caused and led to their behavior.

I'm here to make a difference, to see things from their point of view. In most people's eyes, inmates don't have a voice or say in things anymore. They've lost their chance. I strongly disagree. They have made mistakes, most of them mistakes that cannot be undone. Our lost ones can't return and trauma's haunt you for the rest of your life. However, we must understand that people make mistakes, it's what makes us human.

Some mistakes obviously have a bigger impact than others. As long as these inmates agree that it was a huge one and regret it, there's space for change in behavior. People can change, in both a good and a bad way. I'm here to direct those guys towards the good way.

A knock on the door catches my attention as it shakes me out of my thoughts about my purpose. "You can come in." I say loud enough for the person on the other side of the door to hear.

"Hey," Reed says calmly, walking over to the table to put down a cup of coffee.

He must have noticed how I like my coffee, because he brings me the exact same kind I got when we sat down before. I thank him for it as he strides back to the door, turning to face me again while still holding the doorknob.

"If you're ready, you can meet two inmates before it's their dinner time."

"That's great," I reply sincerely, "I can't wait to meet them for the first time."

As much as that sounds sarcastic, it's truly not. Fear does not determine my devotion to pursue my goals.

"I think they're in need of a new face in here as well so trust me, I think that's mutual." He slightly winks, causing me to reply with a smile. "You should know that during every single conversation, at least one and sometimes two guards will be in the small room next to you, the room behind the mirror. You won't be able to see us, but we will always be there to interfere when needed. The inmates will remain handcuffed for your safety, so you don't need to worry at all. Don't worry about the privacy either, the microphone that is attached under the table is turned off during these sessions. One of us will bring in the inmates whenever it's their turn."

I nod as I'm slowly starting to feel more comfortable. Still, this room is begging for a make-over.

"During these first two conversations, or more like your first short meetings with two clients, I'll be in the room next to you with Kimberly, watching the conversation. You determine how long the conversation with each detainee takes, but don't make it too long today. They have to be down in their canteen in an hour so keep that in mind."

"Got it. How many detainees will I talk to today?"

"Only these two because inmates are not allowed to leave their cells after dinner, no matter the circumstance. Alright, let's just begin before your time gets even more limited. Good luck Adams, I'm sure you'll do great." He smiles reassuringly and leaves the room as he closes the door behind him.

I definitely need some luck to survive these rookie days.  I take a sip from my coffee while writing down the date of today in the right upper corner. Just a few minutes later, another knock on the door is heard. That must be Reed bringing in the first inmate, my first client.

"You can come in." I say as I don't look up from my notebook to write down a few basic things.

I'm not trying to look uninterested, but I'd rather look professional by making sure I handle things calmly. Awkward eye contact while one's walking over to their chair won't really do good, so I avoid that by handling it this way.

As I hear the steps coming closer, I quickly write down my last couple of words.

Client #1.

The door closes, telling me the guiding guard has left the room and I feel the presence of my first client sitting down in the chair in front of me. I put down my pencil and look up to face them with my hand extended, ready to shake theirs.

That's when I freeze.

Client #1 is the person I've been most anxious to meet. It's the green-eyed mystery that had left me speechless without speaking earlier today.

It's him.

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A/N; BEFORE ANY OF YOU KILL ME, i really needed this chapter for you guys to have a deeper look inside of brooklyn's mind because i want you all to understand her way of thinking within the first few chapters already. i'm not sure if it's obvious but i'm a psychology student as well (here in the netherlands) and i truly enjoy writing out brooklyn's thoughts on subjects like these.

ftr's: you guys will finally meet the mystery himself when i publish the next chapter in a few days.

rr's: be patient my lovelies, i'm ready to serve you all more ethan content, way more than before, hehe.

thanks for reading, i hope you enjoyed. please don't forget to vote & comment, i really enjoy reading every single one of them.

— lyra b.