First, I apologize that my daily writing experiment went and took the weekend off. Busy, but good. Hope you all enjoyed your weekend. Good news, I’ve received some great feedback for my book from the beta readers. I think this might be my last tweak before I start sending out a query letter for it. As for now, let’s continue the story from where we left off, shall we? You can click here to follow the chain back to where you last read. Enjoy!
The Experiment (Cont)
“How long have you seen these shadows?”
What am I doing here? Dr. Sheffield sits over in his chair, across from me, but he never looks me in the eyes. He scribbles on his notepad with one hand while he props his face up with the other. I think he’s about to fall over in his chair.This is the best Kate could find? I wonder if she talked to my dad at all. Wonder if this quack had anything to do with my mom?
“It’s probably been a week since I started having dreams about it. It is just one shadow. At least, I’ve only seen one shadow.”
“Mmmhmmm.” Scribble, scribble.
An essential oil diffuser sits on the window sill behind me. Lavender and Peppermint. Have to make a guy feel relaxed, right?
“How old are you now, Robert?”
“Hmm.” More scribbles.
“Too old, huh?” I say. He actually looks up at me. Maybe he is listening.
“What do you mean?”
“Onset for schizophrenia. I’m too old.”
“Well, those guidelines you find online are just that, guidelines. With any mental health issue, we try not to stay too rigid. What makes you think of schizophrenia?”
“Seriously? Let’s not play this game. You know my mother’s history as much as I do.”
“Would you like to talk about your mother?” he leans back in his chair, sets the notepad on the table next to him, and folds his arms. What, now he’s engaging me? Oh, for crying out loud.
I sigh. “Not really. This has nothing to do with my mother. I know this is crazy, but this is real. I’m not imagining this stuff.”
“Real, but no one else can see these…this shadow?”
“Demons are tricky like that, right? Make a guy sound insane so he’s easier to pick off.” I know as soon as the words leave my lips they were the wrong things to say.
Dr. Sheffield’s eyebrows rise. “Demons?”
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