Therapy

I have never believed in vampires, but now I know I'm a vampire. Once the knife goes in my hand there's no turning back. The voices are telling me to do it, it's like they're controlling me. People say I should go into therapy. But there is no way they can stop these voices. (WARNING: Mature Content)

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2. Chapter 1

2. Chapter 1

I had a better life than this. Living at home with my mum and 4 year sister Isabelle, now I live by myself because of me. 

"Nathan get help. You scare me. You need to go to therapy". My mum says every time I see talk to her on the phone.

I would love to get therapy but the trouble is no therapist can fix me. I've tried but it never works. But let's start with where I am now, where I am in this time of night. 6:00 pm. Sitting in my flat on the bar stool drinking one beer with the faded music in the background. Alone thinking about how shit my job is and all those bastards I have to work with. 

"Hey Nathan we know how much you love your late night outings. Let's have one".

I slam the beer down on the kitchen counter. I knew I had to brace myself for a long night.

"What do you want?" I ask and shout 

"Walk over to your little black box". The voice instructs. I walk over to the black box very well hidden so no one could ever see it. "Open the box". I open the box with the key. "Grab the knife and go kill Zac". 

I didn't want to kill anyone but I didn't have a choice. It's like I'm not in control of myself any more. I open my eyes, panting. I remember where I am. I'm in Dr Gibson's office. 

"What happened?" I asked

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