I was faced once again with Jason who just stared at me. I was beginning to wonder if this would be a daily thing.

"How was your night?" I asked him.

"How do you think? My bed is made of metal, I basically have no pillow and a sheet for a blanket, my cell mate snores, and some people around me are constantly screaming from nightmares," he snapped.

I sucked my lips in, not able to deny it or make any of it better. The conditions weren't the best. "Well, we're working on raising money for better beds, the sheets and pillow will follow. As for the people...they're not always the same," I told him.

"It doesn't matter, I could be sleeping in my king size bed customized for me."

"If you didn't commit the crimes you did," I pointed out.

"I wouldn't have the bed without the crimes I committed."

"Is that why you do what you do? For money?" I questioned.

"And pleasure," he shrugged like killing people was normal. Although I guess it is for him. "Although sometimes that money is used to pay for pleasure," he smirked, making my eyes widen. He's probably just talking about the things he's bought...not the services.

"Um...let's get back to the reason behind your crimes?" I got us back on track.

Jason groaned, rolling his eyes. "This is all pointless. We're getting nowhere, this is as far as you'll ever get."

I sighed, leaning my head on my hand as I write more notes down. I could feel Jason staring at me, and I tried my best to ignore it. But it felt like his eyes were glued to me and I kept glancing up in hopes he would stop.

"How old are you?" He asked me, breaking the silence and me away from my writing.

I looked up at him, surprised. "Excuse me?"

"Early twenties I'm guessing?" He continued.

"Well, yeah but..."

"How did you get this job? Shouldn't you still be in school?"

"Shouldn't you?" I shot back. Jason raised an eyebrow and I covered my mouth. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't snap like that," I apologized.

Jason chuckled. "I hardly call that a snap. It's nothing compared to how I talk. You think I'm bad now?" he said, almost warning.

"We're here to talk about you, not me," I told him.

"How can I trust you enough to tell you my thoughts if you won't tell me yours?" He questioned.

I opened my mouth to reply, but stopped. No one has ever asked that, yet it made sense. How could you just hand your trust to someone who won't do the same in return? "You have a point. But you're the one in therapy," I reminded him.

"No willingly," he pointed out. I sighed, not being able to deny that. "Come on, you can't share a single thing about yourself? How am I supposed to feel comfortable sharing anything with you?" he continued.

"How about this...if you answer a question from me, then I'll answer a question from you...with limits of course," I offered a deal.

"And what about my limits?"

"I'll respect yours if you respect mine," I stated simply.

Jason but his lip, looking to the side and actually thinking about it. Finally, he answered. "Okay, deal," he nodded.

The buzzer then went off and Mack opened the door. "Time to go," he announced.

I looked at Jason, giving him a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Jason gave a crooked grin as Mack unlocked his feet. "Yeah, see you tomorrow," he said.

I watched Mack lead him out, feeling a weight lifted once he was gone. It actually wasn't that bad, but I was even more nervous for tomorrow. What kind of questions would he ask me? Would he answer my questions truthfully? I was starting to regret this deal already.