He leaned back in the chair, once again comfortable. "No, the labels I'm thinking of are more like Schizophrenic, Bipolar, Pyromaniac etc, etc. Those labels." He purses his lips and looks out the window. "But I suppose I'll tell you." He had this feeling she wouldn't think him having any mental illness. Maybe it was her charm, the way she made you feel comfortable even when you didn''t want to yourself. Who knew? What he did know is that James was paying for this and he won't wast her time. "Lately I've been having these.... Dreams... Nightmares really... About deaths... People dying and screaming for deliverance but it never comes. I don't understand them, but they freak the shit out of me."  He shakes his head and looks at her. "Weird right?"