"Stay away from me," screamed Jenna, as she buried her face in the tear-stained pillow. It was yet another hellish night for her. She fumbled for the empty bottle of anti-depressants on the bedside table and hurled it across the room. Pills and prayers were her final resort to a peaceful slumber.

She reluctantly got up from her bed and tottered towards the bathroom. She studied her reflection in the cracked mirror with bloodshot eyes, and muttered in a quavering voice, "It should've been me..."

Jenna lost her one and only friend at the tender age of six. That scarring chapter of her life caused her to develop emotional detachment as a child, and be subjected to intensive psychotherapy throughout her life.

She was deemed as "dangerous" and "very disturbing to work with" by all her previous shrinks. But evidently, that never crushed her spirit as she was already in her car, driving swiftly to her new therapist's house in the dead of a dark and foggy night.

She repeatedly rang the doorbell, all the...