I really want to thank everyone for reviewing it means a lot :) I just want to point out that for the most part I did try add a little humor to this chapter, but the themes are still serious I hope that there is a good balance :) let me know what you think.
When There's Nothing Left To Lose
"Now deleted and defeated
I will stand on my own
Yeah your memory that punches me
has broken the bone
Give me recipes for sorry
I'm admitting I'm wrong
Still your memory that punches me
has broken the bone"
Journal Entry #7: When There's Nothing Left To Lose
Today I was told that winning doesn't make us who we are, it's losing. Our victories may give us confidence, but at the end of the day we gain more from our losses than we do our triumphs. I remember Richard once telling me that Bruce used to say: "It's not how we fall, it's how we get back up that defines us." I don't doubt this is true, in fact I know it is, but what happens if you don't want to get back up?
Today I was reminded why I didn't. I came face to face with everything I'd been running from, the very darkness that haunts me, and I could do nothing but look it in the eye and see it for what it was. I honestly thought I'd choke on it, the truth too bitter in taste and its hold over me nearly too strong to overcome. I had to confront my failures and who they've made me. But more importantly, I had to ask myself who I'd become because of them and how I'd face them in the future. And honestly I'm still not quite sure of the answer.
This all started after I was taken to the medical ward to meet with Dr. Graves. I was once again escorted there by Joseph, the very kind orderly who typically does so, which I find comforting. He is one of the few familiar faces I look forward to seeing. Mostly because he never asks me the difficult questions I'm afraid to answer. Our conversations are usually light and comfortable. Joseph usually tells me stories of his teenage daughters and sometimes asks for my advice on how to talk to them. This I find funny (and not because I'm admitted to a psych ward) it's funny because I'm the worst excuse for an archetypal teenage girl. Seriously, I hate shopping and anything to do with malls, I loathe all things even remotely girly or pink. I hate romantic movies (mostly because they never portray it like it really is) and if I even hear a pop song I have to suppress the urge to break the radio. Still, from what I understand, Joseph's eldest daughter isn't really into those things, which is why he asks. From what he says she's into writing poetry and reading voluminous books, being quite the bibliophile. She also loves music and listens to artists like Black Tape For A Blue girl and One Eyed Doll, so she seems to be cut from my cloth. However, I hope she's missing the darker threads that piece together a more tragic existence, for Joseph's sake. His youngest daughter however, seems to be the one he's more concerned about. From what I understand they have a very strained relationship and she tends to shut him out a lot. I can feel how this hurts him, it's clear by the way he speaks of his girls, that he loves them more than anything and I can't even tell you what I wouldn't give to have that.
As I sat alone in the waiting area I let my eyes drift off to the left and down the hall. I'd never been down that particular hallway before and for some reason I never really paid much attention it. My eyes gravitated to a sign that sat above the double doors listing the different procedures and functions the wing served. My gaze slowly drifted down, reading words like observation, examination, and Electro Convulsive Therapy. My breath tightened at the configuration of words and I winced at the thought, looking away with rejection.
Turning my head to the right I looked up to find possibly my worst nightmare standing over me. Oh god, she found me, I thought silently narrating my defeat.
"Hey there my little Bird, long time no see." Dr. Quinzel said in her flamboyant tone.
I gazed up at her puzzled, as if my mind was silently self-destructing behind my blank expression.
She sat down beside me and smiled viciously as she began to speak again. "What's a matta Raven, cat gotcha tongue?"
"More like a leech." I replied in swift retaliation.
I'd always thought of the young doctor as more of a parasite than a medical professional, and I used to refer to our sessions as my weekly "leeching." Though in all respects, I honestly think an actual leeching would have been more beneficial.
"Oh, now that's an interesting analogy, care to elaborate doll?" She asked combing her fingers through my hair.
I cringed at her touch and flinched as her thin fingers began to take hold of my violet locks. "I would, but I fear I've already been bled to the point of death."
"That's awfully cynical of you, and here I though goths were supposed to be more apathetic?"
"That's an awfully big word for someone whose intellect is only rivaled by her ego." I said with a sarcastic look on my face. "But then again your superego has always been a few leeches short of a leech jar now, hasn't it?" Dr. Quinzel laughed uncomfortably at my insult realizing I'd just called her an egotistical half-wit with little morality to balance out her personality. "And by the way I would say I'm more nihilistic in nature, but I'm still very apathetic because I really don't care what you think you of me."
She smiled and leaned back in her chair and started stroking my hair again, her smile becoming a little more unsettling. "You should care what I think," she said taking hold of my hair in a forceful manner, "I may not be your doctor, but my word is still more valuable than yours. And if I feel you're a danger to yourself, or others, then I can bring that up with your doctor and arrange a more prolonged stay."
Her grip grew tighter as her fingers became woven in my hair. I could feel my anger at her boil in my blood and the look on her face threatened to set off my already short fuse. But in the back of my mind I knew that was what she wanted. For me to lose it, so she could deem me unfit and prove my madness for everyone to see. And the frightening truth was even though she'd provoked me, no one would believe me, because at the end of the day she's the doctor, and I'm just a crazy little girl.
"What is going on here," I heard Dr. Graves say and looked up to find him standing behind Dr. Quinzel who quickly released my hair from her grip.
"Adam doll, how's it goin'?" She said changing her tone to a false sweetness that was nearly sickening.
He crossed his arms in an unamused fashion, looking down with disapproval as though he were nothing more than a disappointed father. "Harley, what are you even doing down here and why are you talking to my patient?"
"Me and Raven were just catch'n up is all, no harm no foul." She said in a nonchalant fashion. "Plus I was just lettin' her know I'm here if she needs me. The offer also extends to you if you need my assistance."
Dr. Graves glanced over at me though I remained silent, but rolled my eyes at her in disgust. He didn't say anything, but I could tell he understood our feelings towards each other were not mutual, and knew better than to question me with her present.
"Okay, well there is one thing I actually need from you." Dr. Graves said with a smile.
"And what would that be?"
He shrugged wittily, "Your absence. I have to treat my patient now and I'm sure you have your own to attend to."
It's official, I love my doctor! (In a very platonic way.) I actually had to fight the urge to laugh after seeing the cocky look wiped off Dr. Quinzel's face. It was priceless.
"Well, I guess I'm the only person who can truly provide that." She said walking away, hiding her bitterness under false humor. "Oh, and I see you still have that nasty habit of grinding your teeth. But then again you never had a knack for self-control now did ya?"
Now I don't really know what that meant, but I could tell Dr. Graves did, and by the look on his face it was clearly an insult. I looked at them as they eyed each other awkwardly, a sense of loathe filling the air with a familiar chill. I myself felt a little uncomfortable and honestly, I'm pretty confident (no, scratch that) positive they hate each other more than is probably acceptable.
"So are you two gonna like… I don't know, fight to the death or something?" I said finally breaking my silence. Mostly because I was over watching their little pissing match, not that I had better things to do, but I was over it none the less.
Dr. Graves looked a little embarrassed that he'd let his distaste for the snarky blonde get the best of him, though I can't say I blame him. There is just something about that woman that can get right under your skin and no matter how much you scratch she'll never come out.
"Well it's been fun but, I gotta run." Dr. Quinzel said as she walked toward the elevator.
"Yes, run far, far away and hopefully never procreate." I said in a dull whisper.
Dr. Graves remained silent and just smiled as he shook his head. It was only when she was finally gone that he spoke. "Raven I'm so sorry she did that, I know you're not fond of her."
I sighed as I began to walk to the hallway where his office was located. "It's alright," I said though it clearly wasn't, "she's just another two faced person the world has to deal with, I can handle it." The only problem was I wasn't sure if I could. I'd endured a lot while seeing Dr. Quinzel and in a way I blame her for some of the failures I've fallen to. Now I know it's unfair of me to think that, but I actually made the mistake of trusting her once, and she failed me. The sad thing is I don't even think she intended for me to get hurt the way I did. But if she'd just reminded me that I deserved better or helped me see what I was doing, I could've saved myself from a broken heart and ego.
"Well if she says anything to you again or ever makes you feel uncomfortable, please let me know. I'll make sure she stays clear of you, alright?"
I smiled at my doctor's concern, but refrained from telling him the more delicate details of our meeting. Now this is for two reasons: one, I really didn't want the extra attention and still don't. Like I said earlier, it's my word against hers and last I checked (though I'm convinced she's missing a few marbles) Dr. Quinzel's a doctor and I'm here against my will because my judgment's unsound. I'm also well aware that though she at times teeters on stupid, Dr. Quinzel is actually quite clever, too clever. I know if given the opportunity she could easily twist my own words and use them to her advantage. She's smart, and I don't want to challenge her, not with my sanity on the line. Besides it's not like I'm ever alone around here, unless I'm waiting for Dr. Graves, but I have a feeling that's about to change. And second, I really don't need my sanity questioned any more than it already has been. I mean everyone already thinks I've lost my mind, hell, I'm even beginning to question my mental standing. This whole wide world's a judge, and I really don't want to be in the center of it.
Once we made it to his office he handed me a freshly prepared cup of tea and I sat down to begin pouring my heart out.
"Okay, so I heard you got into quite the blow out last night with one of the other patients." Dr. Graves said, bringing up the incident from the previous night.
I sipped my tea and rolled my eyes, "Yeah I'd apologize, but I'm honestly not sorry."
"And why is that?"
"Because Rylie's an idiot." I replied not really caring whether he agreed with me or not. "Now's the part where you're gonna tell me that's unfair of me to say and that I need to apologize to her, right?"
"No." Dr. Graves replied nonchalantly. "I just want you to tell me why what she said bothered you."
"You're gonna shrink me aren't you."
"Just answer the question."
I shook my head as I could tell he wasn't in any mood to take my shit today. Still, I wasn't really looking forward to having to fill him in on what transpired during dinner, but did so anyway.
"So it started at dinner as you are already aware of. I was sitting with Jack and Nora (who Jack refers to as the Hot Girl)," I said beginning my riveting tail, "So for the most part things were fine until Rylie came to sit with us, which I wouldn't mind if she actually knew how to speak without sounding like an ignorant fool."
Now, for the most part, I'm very sympathetic to most of the people here. They all need help and some of them can't help the way they are, it's just how they're wired. However, I can't say the same for Rylie because she's the stereotypical, overly dramatic, entitled, spoiled brat that is wrong with our generation, and she's constantly complaining about how much her life sucks. I mean have you looked around?
"And how does she sound ignorant?" Dr. Graves asked with a blank expression.
"How does she not? That's the better question." I replied almost annoyed with the question.
"Give me an example."
I rolled my eyes and continued my story which consisted of the following. Like I'd written previously, I was sitting with Jack, the lovable Australian with a mouth, and Nora, a pretty ballerina who unfortunately suffers from an eating disorder and a clear sense of body dysmorphia. Now for the most part, the three of us get along pretty well. Nora and I talk about how screwed up our lives are while Jack tells us stories about his colorful exploits and unhealthy relationships.
"She then says, that is no way to live your life, and that saddens me." Jack said as I looked down at the questionable meal in front of me. "So I responded with 'really because it feels like fun. I mean I just high fived someone a minute ago, I don't think I woulda done that if I was having a bad time now, would I?' And that's when the fight started."
"Dear god Jack, any woman who puts up with you is a saint." I said shaking my head at him.
"Yeah, that or a fucking harpy. You gonna finish that Violet?"
"No, I have a policy, if I can't identify it then I refuse to consume it as a safety precaution." I replied pushing away my tray of grey meat and strangely colored vegetables. (Joseph's right, the food isn't very good here.)
It was then the antagonist known as Rylie, or as Jack likes to call her, "Princess", enters the scene and asks to sit with us. Now none of us can stand her, but we know what it's like to be left out, so we don't protest (at least not out loud). Now let me just say that what makes Rylie so unbearable is that her whole life is always a crisis. You're probably thinking "well so is yours," but I don't look for mine to be one, she does. Not only that, but everyone and their mother has to know about it because she must be the center of attention at all times.
So as for me, I have little patience for this kind of behavior, and her constant sense of self-absorption is extremely exhausting to my empathy. Still, it's sad. She obviously has issues with keeping friends and has a lack of confidence, but if she'd spend less time acting like everybody hated her and more time listening to others, she'd probably have more friends.
So of course she starts off about how her parents must hate her because they had her committed. The reason for this is because she threatened to kill herself, and from what I understand she's made a few questionable attempts in the past. So to be fair to her parents they probably just wanted to protect their daughter. (Oh, the humanity.) Still, she insists she only said that because they don't care about her and they don't understand her pain. I think you get the picture.
"So your parents wanted you to stop seeing your boyfriend because he is 21 and you're only 16?" I asked trying to make sense of the soap opera that was her life.
"Yes, how dare they! He is the only person who really loves me."
"How long have you two been dating?"
"Two months and 3 days."
I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes as I asked, "But I thought you said he cheated on you with that girl you hate?"
"He did, but he apologized and promised me he'd never do anything like that again."
"Sounds like everlasting love." I said nearly ready to throw myself down a flight of stairs because of how absurd she sounded. "Have you ever thought about the possibility that maybe you don't love him as much as you love the idea of him?" I asked trying to push the little fool towards a less heartbreaking direction.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. I'm only saying you're kind of young to know what love is and I'm just asking if it's possible that maybe you only think you are in love?"
"That's ridiculous; I'm not some stupid tart." (Wanna make a bet.) "I love Anthony and he loves me. You sound like my parents." (Good, your parents are right, grow up!)
"Well, has it ever occurred to you that maybe Anthony is just using you because you're young and impressionable? And that your parents actually love and want to protect you. I mean don't you find it kinda odd that a grown man wants to date a 16 year old girl?" I said a little patronizingly.
"So you're saying that I'm not worth loving? How dare you!" She shouted in all her ignorance.
"No, I said that your boyfriend is clearly using you, not only because he knows he can, but because you let him. That's why your parents don't like him and anyone who cheats on you clearly doesn't love you." I pointed out to her distaste. "He's just telling you what you wanna hear."
"Shut up Raven. Why don't you just mind your own business and stay out of mine." She crossed her arms and put on a ridiculous pout.
"I'd love to, but unfortunately for me you don't come with a mute button."
"Oh my god, that was so bitchy of you, are you trying to make me trigger?!"
And here we go…The rest was basically about how much of a bitch I am and how I couldn't began to understand her because she's a special snow flake and some bullshit. (Oh I'm sorry, my mistake, I'll adjust the material accordingly…)
This is about where Dr. Graves stopped me and began asking me questions. "So what is it about her that bothers you?"
"You want a list?" I asked sarcastically, "She's just a little brat. She wants everybody to feel sorry for her, she's so obnoxious."
"Ok I get that, but I get the feeling you were trying to help her, why?" he asked.
"Because that's what I do."
Dr. Graves just rolled his eyes and cocked his head to the side as though silently saying 'give me the real answer'.
"Okay, it's because I could see that this boy was clearly praying off her because she's lonely, depressed, and naïve. All that makes her the prefect target for someone like that."
"And how do you know that?"
"Because I was that girl, not once, but twice." I replied a little defeated. "Rylie actually had the nerve to ask me if what made me such an expert on love was that I'd actually been in love."
"What was your answer?"
"I said no, what made me an export was that I thought I was." I looked down at my hands with bitter regret. They'd failed me so many times, but it seemed my heart could also inflict just as much damage as they were capable of. "What she doesn't realize is that she's setting herself up to fail and because of that she's letting that boy take away her sense of dignity. It's that behavior that makes her value herself less and therefore she's going to go through life thinking it's alright for people to use and destroy her. She's letting the world kill her and isn't doing a damn thing to stop it."
"So you were only trying to spare her the pain you've experienced, hoping that maybe she'd become less dependent on the wrong male figures in her life?" Dr. Graves asked with a questioning look.
"Yes, basically. The first time I suffered a broken heart I swore I'd never let another man use me like that again, but low and behold I let another one swoop right in and let me think he loved me."
"Are sure they didn't?"
"If someone loves you then they aren't cruel only to be kind." I said in a cynical tone.
Dr. Graves didn't say anything for a moment as I took a long sip of my tea to avoid eye contact with him. It was clear he could see the remnants of the pain that lingered within me, as it resurfaced for his sight. Still, it was clear he had other questions on his mind.
"Raven, is it safe to say that the heartbreak you feel reminds you of your father?"
"Remember that little clause that clearly states that we don't speak of my father?" I questioned, "Plus I don't believe in Freud's theory."
Dr. Graves rolled his eyes at me in annoyance, "That's not what I meant. I was implying that the prominent male figure in your life is not only absent, but he has also left you with a significant heartbreak. Now my question is, does that not only affect your relationships, but when men hurt you does it conjure up those feelings toward you father?"
I take it back, I hate my doctor. He always manages to find some way to pull my more deep seeded secrets up from the ground they've been buried beneath with little regard for how hard I try to forget them. "Maybe?" I said trying to brush off the question.
He only looked at me and shook his head. "Raven, you really need to address whatever issues you have with your father. The fact you won't even mention him just shows that he plays a big part in of your life and has a direct link to your condition."
If only he knew. Unfortunately for me he's right. My father has everything to do with my condition, but how do I explain that I'm the spawn of Satan without having myself committed for life? Furthermore, I'm still getting used to this whole letting people in nonsense and it's not as easy as one may think.
"Well I'm not really ready to discuss that yet, and don't think I ever will be?" I said in a very whatever kind oftone.
Dr. Graves shrugged and ground his teeth, making me think of what Dr. Quinzel had said earlier and realized it was true. He did grind his teeth every now and then, especially when he got frustrated. "Ok, so you're not ready to talk about your father, then I have the answer I was looking for."
"And what answer is that?" I asked patronizingly.
"That you're not ready to be transferred to the open ward."
He watched as my eyes grew large and my face fell in defeat. "What? Why?"
"Cause you're clearly not ready." He said simply as he closed my file.
"But, I can't, no… I need… no!" I bantered placing my head in my hands. I felt as though I was so close to my goal that I could taste it, and then suddenly it was taken away from me. "But why? Because I won't tell you about my daddy issues?"
"No." He said furrowing his brow. "I'm not signing your transfer because you're just not ready yet."
"But I am ready, I'll be ready, I'll tell you anything you want." I pleaded desperately, trying to make him see that I wanted to move forward. Trouble was, I really wasn't ready.
"Raven, stop. You are not ready, that's what it comes down to."
"But why? What makes you so sure I'm not?" I yelled on the verge of tears. (Ironically enough, sounding like Rylie.)
"Because it's my job to know the character of the human psyche." He assured as though he were almost insulted. "You think I don't understand you Raven, but in reality I actually do, more than you'll ever know. I know your cynicism, your need to stay isolated, hell, I even know that unmistakable feeling of giving up and I know why that hurts." He paused for a moment, catching himself and gathering his self-control. "I understand you better than you know, and I know how hard it is to trust people, I get that, but you need to learn to trust me so I can teach how to save yourself. I can't do it for you."
I sat back and crossed my arms. I knew he was right, I needed to learn to trust him, but how could I when I didn't even understand him. It's clear he understands me, it's actually unsettling how much so, but I don't even know the first thing about him. But still, those words replayed in my head, "So I can teach you to save yourself." I actually couldn't help but roll my eyes because that was something I actually wanted Dr. Quinzel to do. Teach me how to save myself from myself. That's why I lost confidence in her, she had none in me. She only saw me as another referral she could possibly make money off of. To be honest I don't think she knew how to help me because she was too interested in helping herself.
"What do I need to do to show you that I'm ready?" I pleaded.
Dr. Graves let out a deep sigh and leaned back, "Ok, one, you need to trust me, two you have to start facing the things that are holding you back. I'm not saying you have to face anything you're not ready to, but you need to start thinking about it. And third, and most importantly, you need to stop treating your life like a bargaining chip."
I remained silent and stunned by his words, and though I'd never actually thought about it that way, he was right. I was and have always treated my life like a bargaining chip.
"It's how I get through life, just constantly making deals with myself that if I get through a certain time period or set of events, and I still want to die, then I'll do it. But I don't do it because I want to die. In reality I'm only looking for a reason to live… some reminder that my life matters." I said suddenly letting go of my reservations.
In the past this method has surprisingly worked (though I am not by any means recommending it) but it has gotten me through some of the more difficult parts of my life. I blame it on my upbringing. As a little girl I was told I'd die young and that I had no say in the matter. As a result I grew accustom to seeing my life as little more than a bargaining chip because in the end I was simply going to die anyway. But all that changed when I could no longer ask myself what is the point.
"You see Dr. Graves I don't think people realize there's a difference between asking the question and actually deciding to do it. When you contemplate suicide you are looking for a reason to be. Therefore you're still looking for a reason to come off the edge. But when you decide not to be anymore it's no longer a question of if, but how and when. You feel like there's nothing left to live for because there's no point. You're just looking over the edge waiting for the right moment to fall. It's as simple as letting go."
Dr. Graves smiled mildly and let his eyes fall so they wouldn't meet mine. "I know there's a difference, but sometimes even asking the question can be dangerous, though we all do it. I'm afraid if I transfer you, you'll once again find a reason to fall and I'm not willing to take the chance that you won't" He said in a low graveled voice. I could tell not only by his words, but also by his tone that he genuinely cared about my well-being. He wanted me to succeed, and not just because he was my doctor, it was because he thought my life mattered.
Still I found myself struggling to let my guard down. There are so many parts of me that I've never let anyone else see. I myself don't even want to look upon them and the idea of having someone see those parts of me is frightening. I know I have to face my demons, but the truth is if I face them then they become real. It's easier to pretend they don't exist and it's easier to say that the voices aren't there, but they are.
When I was younger I used to talk to them and as I got older I begged them to stop, I begged them to leave and they didn't. Even now as I write this passage they're laughing at me, snickering at my inner fears and making it clear they're a part of me and always will be. How do you overcome something that you can't defeat? How do tell someone you hear things that aren't even there? How do you tell someone about all the things you do to yourself in hopes to make it all stop, in hopes to remind yourself you're still alive?
It's all so perplexing; I don't know where to start. I don't know what to say or if I should truly trust him. My boundaries have been my only protection from the world and its judgments. For years my persecution only rested in my own doing and fear of what others might think of me. Do I bear my scars or keep them hidden from the eyes of others like I've done in the past years? Do I confess the secrets I locked away so no one would hear them? What do I do if I don't?
Do I keep hiding from the light so it doesn't catch me? Do I bleed alone in the darkness until I have not a drop of life in me left to breathe? Do I bite my tongue and never speak the words of my voices and the secrets that they hold? Can I even live like that? That's how I've lived for years and look where it's gotten me. And to be fair, I can't call what I've been living at all. I've only been a ghost among the living, simply existing, haunting those I love because I don't know how to live. Well, maybe it's time I learn.
I sat back and looked at Dr. Graves. I tried to put aside my residing anger at his decision and tried to understand it. But in all honestly I found this difficult to do because I wanted nothing more than to be transferred. I wanted to move forward and I still do, but it appeared I wasn't moving fast enough for him to trust that I wouldn't turn back.
You see, I may not trust him, but he doesn't trust me as either. He can read me like a book and my story supports his theory. That if put in the right set of circumstances I'd relapse and do what I do best, drown. He's right; I'm not ready to swim. If thrown in the ocean I'd sink and I'd put little effort into saving myself, I'm not going to pretend I would, I know myself to well to lie about that.
"I do want to get better Dr. Graves, I really do, but I've just come to that decision and it's fairly new to me." I said wanting him to see that I did really want it. "I'm not used to facing these things; they're hard for me to accept. I don't really know where to start?"
His eyes filled with relief, as though he thought I had a break through. "You start by admitting that it scares you." He smiled. "You have to learn to deal with life differently, and that is scary, but you need to know it's alright to admit it Raven."
"I'm afraid I'm going to fail again, that I can't overcome who I am and I'll never learn to live." I said trying really hard not to cry, but hardly succeeding.
"Raven, failure isn't the end and it's not what destroys us, it's what makes us who we are." Dr. Graves said trying to lift my spirits. "Our failures help us improve ourselves, it's learning to overcome them that makes us strong. "
"You sound like you know from experience?"
"I do." He said looking away. "Some of my biggest failures have nearly ruined my life, but they've made me who I am today. Yes, I have my regrets, but I've gained wisdom from those regrets. And if that wisdom helps me guide someone away from the ledge then it makes all those failures worth it." He paused and looked back at me and though I was moved by his words I still found myself hesitant to trust them.
"What if I have nothing left?" I asked, thinking of all I've lost in my life.
"That's the thing Raven, you have nothing left to lose, which means you have everything to gain."
"So for me to do this I have to be honest with not just you, but myself?"
"Yes, if you can be honest with yourself then you'll find the answers you're looking for." He smiled, knowing he'd finally gotten through to me.
I wiped a few stray tears from my eyes and rested my elbows on my knees. "So does this mean you'll transfer me to the open ward?" I asked with a devilish grin.
"No, you still have a few things to prove before I sign those papers, but nice try though." He said falling back into his stern expression.
I rolled my eyes in a sarcastic manner, accepting my defeat, "I thought it was worth a shot. Like you said, I have nothing to lose."