My psychopathic friend - Merna Al-Mahdi

The bullet was fired from the barrel of Salem's gun, and its deafening sound was silenced by the weapon's silencer that he had hidden in his back pocket of his trousers—as usual—to settle in the middle of the doctor's forehead, who thought herself clever when she left them to tell her the details of all the tragedies he had lived through, and she pretended to understand, be wise, empathetic, and understanding, and asked them for a copy of the ID to hand over to the authorities. Hadi's features relaxed when he saw the thin line of blood drop from her Botox-injected face's forehead, then he whispered to Salem with unparalleled enthusiasm: – I am the one who will kill the nurse. Salem shook his head indifferently, then took the cigarette pack he had buried with his cigarettes during the session, and put it in a plastic bag he took out of his pocket, then he was about to get up to take the notebook lying between the hands of the murdered doctor and tear up all the pages written about them so he wouldn't leave any evidence against them. Hadi noticed his friend's condition, so he stopped him saying: – Don’t believe her, Salem. We’re not psychopaths; society is the one playing the victim.