Psychotherapist

So I've been told by my new therapist, or as he wants me to call him, my "adviser" to write down my thoughts and feelings about the "incident" that occurred about a month ago that gave me mental problems or "post traumatic stress disorder". Okay, well first things first I'm not writing down my feelings to some smiley face covered lined notebook, and especially not if this is kind of like, well admitting that it actually happened. But, looking back, I guess that kind of is writing down my feelings, but I don't care enough to erase or go back, and whoever reads this isn't going to believe me anyway. I don't even know why I even bothered coming to this therapist, the last one I had was the source of all my problems anyway. Fine, I'll open up, let my feelings out, "channel" it all out, I really do miss Salid. Alright, I give up, I'll crack open, examine me doctor. lol.

It all started when Salid said he was hungry at 1 AM and had a craving for McDonalds. In fact, you could blame that craving for his untimely death; they did say McDonalds could kill you. So to sate Salid's enormous diet we both climbed into my Jeep Wrangler, me driving and him as the passenger, and started driving on our way to the closest McDonalds, which was roughly 10 miles away. As we were driving through the swampy landscape of lower Virginia, Salid turned on FM 9.84 to listen to some "loud but good for the crowd" pop music. He poked his head out the roof and belted out the lyrics to "Can't Hold Us". I muttered along, since I didn't really know the words. We finally reached the barely illuminated McDonalds and went through the drive through, Salid ordered a big Mac and I got a small lemonade. He chomped heartily into his burger while we sat parked in the car in the parking lot. He finished, threw the wrapper into the trash, and I pulled out of the parkway and got back onto the highway. As we were driving we sat in silence, just thinking over our 24 year old lives. As we approached the crossroads towards our shared house, we saw a stopped car with the lights on parked in the middle of the road. I was planning to just drive by, the typical not my life not my problem course of action when Salid grabbed the steering wheel out of my hands and jerked the car over in the direction of the stopped car. Grudgingly I took over and brought the car to a crawl next to the stopped car. Salid called out, "Is everything all right?"

"Uh.. Just a little engine problems son. Any chance you got some jumper cables? I just need a boost." Said a low guttural voice bent over the propped open hood.

"Yeah, give me a sec." Salid said as he got out of the car and started searching through the trunk. "Here you go." Salid said as he gave the other end of the connected jumper cables to the man. The man connected the cables and I revved the car, after 10 seconds his car sprang to life.

"Thank you so much, I owe you both one." Said the man as he gave back the cables. "My name's Damien. Damien Small, I'm a psychotherapist working just over at Miller Road. You can get some free consultation if you pop over anytime, we're open and we'll talk about your problems... Or mine." He smiled, revealing a pair of glistening white pair of chompers, standing out in the relative dark.

Salid, as he was getting back into the car, called out, "Thanks for the offer, maybe we will." As I backed up out to go back to our turn in the crossroads, I took a closer look at the man. He wore dark clothes, so it was hard to distinguish anything he was wearing, he was tall, roughly 6'1", and had a standard, plain looking face and short cropped hair. But the thing that really sent shivers down my spine was his eyes, he had no white in his eyes, just a dark brown, almost black, color that was like forest, without any light without any moonlight, where the lights bash together to make a distorting appearance which is difficult to describe. I got only a couple seconds to look, but in those few seconds goosebumps erupted down my arms like rain drops, a few at first and then all at once. I shivered the feeling off and continued driving back into our shared apartment. We quickly jumped into bed and we both fell into a deep slumber.

We woke up the next morning deeply rested. We both did our morning activities like showering, cleaning, etc. I then went to the fridge to see if I could scramble together a half-decent breakfast. Something about it bothered me, and if I trusted my gut feeling there's a chance none of this would have happened. Before we had left for McDonalds the night before, I had checked the fridge to see if there was anything Salid could eat but of course he insisted upon McDonalds. Everything since I had checked it had been rearranged; the milk was on the left compartment instead of the right, ham was in the cheese compartment, lettuce was in the chocolate and other snacks cabinet. However, I just assumed that in the middle of the night Salid had gotten up and searched for food, found nothing, and gone back to bed. I grabbed the eggs which thankfully were still in the egg compartment and made some scrambled eggs. After Salid and I both ate I went to go grab my clothes for my interning job at Reuters Thompson, I even had to work weekends while getting paid almost nothing, however I was determined to make a name for myself and was persistent. Salid got to take the weekends off because he had an actual job at the Jeffery Hospital, where he worked as a nurse. As I went to grab my suit I realized something was off again, all my suits were messed up. Once again I just assumed it was Salid. I was so stupid. I got dressed which took me a while to find all my clothes. When I tried to find my keys for my car and I couldn't find them I once again blamed Salid. I asked him where he put it, but he said he didn't take it. I looked everywhere, and it took me about an hour to find the keys hidden behind a fridge magnet. I asked Salid if he thought that joke was funny because I was late for work because of him and he just responded that he didn't do it. I really thought it was him...

When I got to work I work I was in a bad mood, and more of the same thing kept happening. One thing missing or mixed up, and another, and another, and another, and another. I went home in a horrible mood, thinking Salid was just trying to play a big joke on him. I yelled at him and asked him if he thought this was a good joke and I thought he had a good innocent face... If only I had believed him. This went on for days, than weeks, and finally after a month of annoying mishaps I lost it. I went beserk and started throwing everything. After I calmed down and realized I needed help, and I thought of Damien Smith, the psychotherapist.

The night after my tantrum, as we both had to work during the day, Salid and I drove over to Miller road and found "Damien Smith's Consulting and Therapy" A large plain painted white metal with a large wooden door to enter. There was a path leading to the door with 3 rows of 6 planted roses on either side of the path. It was a two story building with no windows on the 2nd floor and one window visible from the front on the 1st floor. We parked and walked in. His secretary who had the name tag Ms. Rosemary asked us if we had an appointment, but we told her we knew Damien personally and came to see him. She told us to take a seat in the small but comfy seating area. We waited for about 5 minutes, in which time I went into the small bathroom on the first floor. Soon after Damien Smith came down the long staircase leading to the second floor, helping a customer out the door. He was wearing a black sweater black curduoroys and wore a pair of dark sunglasses, even though he was inside. He turned around with a look of surprise.

"I was wondering when I would see you again!" He exclaimed. "Come, Come on right up." He said as he led us up the staircase. After we took our seats he asked, "Now what brings you here? Just to chat, do you need something? Money?" He laughed. "Or is there actually a problem." All the while smiling from ear to ear

"Well" I explained. "I've recently had some issues with arranging things, well I guess I'm developing OCD."

"Well then... What do you think led to this?"

"I guess about a month ago, about the time after we helped you with your car issues. Everything seemed to fall in disarray." A storm seemed to fall about him. He lost his smile and it turned into a frown, his eyebrows became like a valley, and his posture changed to easygoing and happy to defensive and hostile.

"That's... Strange."

I felt uncomfortable as he looked me deep into my eyes, and it felt as if... as if he was looking into my soul. He continued to stare and I felt as if my very existence was being questioned. Salid didn't seem to recognize the exchange, and was just wondering why nobody was talking. Awkwardly I shuffled out of the room, mumbling about using the restroom. I quickly ran in and shut the door, locking it. I had never felt so weird in my life. I ran some water through the faucet and washed my face. I sat on the toilet, trying to calm myself. I heard some muffled moving upstairs, but I just thought it was Salid or Damien moving around. I waited for about 3 minutes, just inhaling and exhaling. As I was about to unlock the door I felt a drop on my hand. I smeared it aside, not bothering to look, I just assumed there was leakage from the 2nd floor when there was a second drop on my head, and then one on my shoulder. I looked at the smeared part of my hand to find a stain of red. I looked all around my hand for cuts to find none, and then a fourth and fifth drop hit me. I realized it was coming from the ceiling. I looked up to see a pool of blood covering the ceiling. Horrified, I unlocked the door and sprinted up the stairs. What I met was a horrific sight.

Damien crouched over the bloody mess of a body that used to be Salid, holding a small knife. My crotch was wet with urine and I was crying, unable to comprehend the scene infront of me. I took one last look at Damien before I sprinted downstairs, and he did not have his sunglasses on, and all that was there was his dark, black, cold, dead, eyes.