"Welcome to our fear clinic" a slightly old, white haired, partly balding, wrinkely man half said to me while shoveling through papers as I aproached the front desk. Very welcoming.
"I'd like to check myself in..." I mumbled as I stared down at my muddy red convers hightops. Something about what I said must of struck a cord with the old man. He put down the papers, sat up and looked at me with his blue green eyes.
"What was that?" he said in a more sincear tone. I gave a resounding gulp before I shot my head up and peered through my chocolate pin curls and stared straight at him with my hateful green eyes.
"I said, 'I'd like to check myself in' please and thank you!" I said loud and clear this time. The old man smiled revealing his yellowing teeth.
He began in a caring tone, "Well welcome to our world famous fear clinic. I am Doctor Andover, and if you'd like to specify your phobia I'd love to get us started." He said so eagarly it made me want to vomit. I cleared my throat.
"I have sevear Autophobia. It started around the age 15 and have progressed over the years to the point I can't go about people..."
"Autophobia? I can't say I've heard of that one. Would you please elaborate?" he said in a general curiosity.
I smirked in spite of myself, world famous my ass. If he knew what I had instore for him, he would send me away tell me to go and never come back. But his greed has sent him over the deep end, the point of no return. To think my phobia was even at work as I checked in to end it all.
"Sorry, My name is Addy, and Autophobia is "Fear of I" or to fear yourself."