Seesaw

A dark horror story about imagination and lack of sanity.

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1. Session One

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

"Can you tell me what happened that day?"

Tick.

Tick.

"Do you remember anything?"

Tick.

"How about the play ground that night? Who was your friend?"

She wouldn't shut up. The ticking of her timer kept ticking and ticking. It echoed in my head. My empty, black and white mind. Ticking. With question after question. I wasn't crazy. I didn't need to be here.

"Enesa?"

Tick... Beep!

I got up. I felt heavy. Slow. But I turned away from my "so-called-therapist" and walked right out of her see through glass door. I was tired. I turned in the empty hall and walked. My foot felt heavy with each step but I finally reached the door to fresh air. Freedom.

It was cold.

The ticking was deep in my brain. And it hurt.

"Enesa!"

She followed.

I turned around and was face to face with my therapist. Her shoulder length red hair. Her freckle covered face. No make up. And a pointy but small, perfect nose. Her green eyes stared into my deep blue eyes. She had no smile.

"I'm worried about you."

I smirked. I couldn't help it,"Why Ms. Jonah?"

She frowned,"You never answer my questions. You've been seeing me for two weeks now. If I don't get a response they will send you away."

I shrugged,"Okay, and?"

Ms. Jonah had a hurt look buy she smiled, so fake,"I'm here for you Enessa."

I turned away and began to search for my car. I spotted my white 2006 mustang coupe and tried to get away. I grabbed for the door handle, pulling the keys out of my jeans pocket.

Her cold hand grabbed my arm,"Enessa."

I turned,"Shut up. I don't need your help, I'm not crazy. Okay?"

Ms. Jonah glared at me,"But that's what THEY think. Please talk to me."

"You're not a good therapist," I yanked my arm away and unlocked my car. She watched me get in and leave. Not once did she try to run at the car or stop me.

When I got back to my apartment. You were waiting for me. Do you remember? You sat there on my living room floor. Legs hugged close to your chest and your long blonde hair gently tickling down your bare back. You said nothing. We no longer spoke. You had no face.

I am not insane.
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