The visit

A much darker story about a mans visit to the therapist and the horrors of his past.

"George? George!" Screamed the therapist. "Yes?" I replied. "You still haven't answered my question." I was no longer nervous or scared. "You want to know? When did I first find out you ask? Well I'll tell you" The whole day from two weeks ago came flushing back.

 

 My head pounded as I sat in this cold, dirty office. I had been here for hours awaiting the inevitable. As always I'd finish my cup of water, then go for another, then I'd hear my name called by the same women as the previous times, then I would proceed to some useless, time-wasting appointment required by the state. The police claim its supposed to help me "cope with my problems" , but it just reminds me of what I've lost. So here I am awaiting my third appointment this month, shaking so much I spill a little of my half empty cup of water on the dirt stained floor. "Why me" I think to myself over and over, until I realized I was speaking aloud. I immediately shut my mouth, and I look up from my newly created puddle. I scan my nearby surroundings wondering if anyone noticed the strange guy in the corner talking to himself. I was surprised to see the room empty except for the receptionist and four seats to my left sat another man. He was fairly short, with small clumps of thinning hair still clinging to his scalp. He looked like an older man that might have at once been handsome. The man had a strange feel about him. I could see despair in his eyes, but at the same time happiness, no, peace. I just looked at him as he breathed deep breaths, the air going in and out, in and out. He was looking through a old national geographic magazine I recognized. I knew it was old from the stains on the cover and a vague memory of getting that same edition in the mail six years ago. He looked up at me and I could see his face wrinkle as he smiled in my direction. The man stood and stretched. He walked to the table next to me, with piles of ancient magazines piled on top of each other. He placed the National Geographic on top of the other similar magazines and sat down on the seat left of the little table. I sat on the right. He looked in my direction and spoke in a calm tone, strangely comforting. His words came out as soft as velvet as he said "You don't care for these appointments do ya?" I sat motionless staring again at the puddle of water at my feet. In that same tone he said "Come on. There's no reason to be afraid around me, I mean we are both here for pretty much the same thing" I knew where this was going. He was going to ask about my past but I forced myself to look up anyway. "Yeah" I responded weakly. The feeling of serenity from the man quickly turned to awkwardness. The silence was growing unbearable so I broke it. "Oh Yeah, so why are you here?" The stranger smirked and had a gleam in his eye. "Why am I here you ask? I'm here for a legal evaluation. You see, I got a kitchen knife and put my wife into a much deeper sleep. Then I moved to my daughter's room where I sliced her throat and splattered the wall with at an explosion of red. The neighbors heard screaming and called the police. I was arrested before the blade could pierce my own heart." My eyes widened and filled with fear at the horrific Scene he had described. The most eerie part about it was the fact that he never lost his calm vibe. I stared at him until I mustered the nerve to speak. "Wow, what could they have done to cause you to hate them so much? " The stranger just had a blank expression on his face and said "I didn't hate my family, it was just something I felt like doing." He smiled again. "So I did it. Isn't that the best way to live your life? Is that not how you live yours?" I truly felt offended. "No" I said in a harsher tone. "I have always lived my life to serve others. I have done nothing but give, give and give. And then God took the ultimate price from me" For once I wanted my name called now. I didn't want to relive the tragedies of my live with this man. He smirked. "And what price would that be?" Anger surged my body and I balled my hand into fists. Fighting the urge to jump out of my seat I screamed "A b*****d like you killed my family!" The stranger didn't even flinch. "I'm sorry to hear that." He said with empathy "I wouldn't wish that on anyone." My anger flared again but I held my composure. "So your own family is an exception " The stranger stared at me deeply. His eyes changed. The despair I had seen earlier seemed to grow but it quickly ceased. "So you're here to get through that?" He said. "Yes" I replied. "And trying to get over hurting my own body. I've tried to kill myself multiple times, each stopped by a flawed plan, a Interruption or just my own fear. Grief is the worst of emotions anger, happiness and sadness pass, but grief never leaves you alone. Even when you get over it, the memories open old wounds. The torment is suppressed but never stopped." I took a moment to ponder what I had just said. It's almost laughable my whole life has been nothing but torment. Ever since I graduated college, every cent I have made goes to my family. I got a glamorous house and expensive cars, not once being greedy. And I worked as much as I could to pay for it all myself. Then my wife had the audacity to complain when I asked her to do a simple task of cooking or cleaning the dishes. My son was never there to visit us after he graduated high school. And even my daughter would cringe at the fact that I would suggest playing a simple game or sit with her to watch a movie. They mocked me and always bashed my ideas. That laughed at me and even pulled mean pranks, while whispering around my back. Even considering that, my wife and daughter were good people. They would help people and occasionally do as I asked. They were family and I loved them unconditionally. I would never wish they die at the hands of some sick stranger like the monster across the table. "You are so calm and chill. How could you possibly be so calm and do such a horrible act?" He raised his eye brow and began to speak. "If you ever get to know a murderer, you'll find a lot of them are patient and calm. The calm are always the scariest, they take, take, and take endless torment, blessed with endless patience, Until one day they snap. I guess that's what happened to me." His response intrigued me. Just being in his presence still angered me, knowing why we were here. "Well" I said. "Your certainly reached your limit." His expression was blank again. "Yes I did, all that endless torment from everything can lead a man to do things he may regret. Or maybe he doesn't." A few moments later I heard my name called from across the room "George, it's time for your appointment" Before I got up from my seat the stranger said "I can't help but feel we meet for a reason." He then just stared at me like he knew something I didn't. I drank what was left of my water and threw away the cup and then went to the familiar back room, but yet again there was a new doctor. "Hello George" he said. "Hi" I replied. "George, I've talked to the other doctors about you, tell me do you plan on another appointment with little progress?" I paused thinking of a reply. "I don't know yet, that depends on you. Are you as skeptical as the others doctors?" He adjusted his glasses and said

 "lets get started. So George, why are you here?"

 "My family, doctor" 

"What about them?" 

"They are no longer with me. I have nothing left in this world, ever since their murder." 

"Your family was murdered by whom? "I don't know"

 "Are you sure? The police don't know a suspect either."

 "No comment" 

"George, where were you that night?" "I don't know" 

"Where you home? Who would want your family dead? George I know you know, now tell me!"

 "I can't"

 "George, we need to get some progress. Who killed your family"

 "Th-The man in the waiting room. What's his name, George?"

 "He didn't tell me. He killed them I know he did."

"What man?"

 I jumped out of my seat and alarmed the therapist.

 "Sit back down George!" He demanded. 

"No, I must show you the man that did this"

 "You can't leave this room until your hour is up; it's against the rules."

  I grabbed the therapists arm and dragged him of his seat and said "To hell with the rules you must meet him" I bolted for the door and the therapist chased after me. I ran back into the waiting room to find it empty except for receptionist. When I looked at where the stranger was sitting and another magazine lied on the seat.

 "George! What are you doing?! " Exclaimed the therapist.

 "Look" I pointed to the strangers seat. "There is the magazine he was reading; He is still here. He must be in the bathroom."

 I ran into the restroom across from my seat in the waiting room. I entered and frantically searched all the stalls. I was almost to the last stall when I turned around and looked at the mirror. Terror filled my eyes. My reflection was fairly short, with small clumps of thinning hair still clinging to his scalp. He looked like an older man that might have at once been handsome. 

 

That is when I first found out.

Author's Note

I haven't really proofread it completely and I would like advice to improve it and just any problem you happen to see. Iv been working on it about a week and a half. . I hope you enjoy my story. Criticism is accepted but dont just bash it.

Reviews

[SquinklaPsyOps]

I enjoyed this story. You have a gift for conveying a story of life. The entire piece follows an order and rings out a clear message that is often overlooked. Very insightful work.

[unspoken_hero]

Thank you very much. I'm glad you liked it. I wanted a surprise ending but as I went over it I was worriedthat people would figure it out to soon. Thanks again for taking time to read it.
-unspoken_hero