My emotions were all over the place. Confusion. Calm. Fear. Mind you, I wasn't afraid of Scott or anyone for that matter. I was afraid for him because he was sharing a house with me. I kept waiting for the panic attack to hit. For my mind to unravel and turn against me, showing me everything I did in those woods on a loop, but it wasn't happening. There were no nightmares. Nothing hindered my cognitive ability. For fuck's sake, I shot four men and two of them were related to me. I shot Don Angelo. Still no reaction. It was like I was on a constant power trip and it scared the shit out of me.
This was why I didn't want to share a bed with Scott. When I closed my eyes to sleep, there was no insomnia. I slept like a baby. I didn't want Scott to see what a fucking sociopath I had turned into.
