It took one moment. One brief second and my world came apart. The once bright days I shared with the ones I loved came to an end in that one dark most brutal way to die is slowly, painfully, longingly waiting for the darkness to take you.
"Do we have a deal?" It hissed into my ear.
. The blood was leaving me faster than I could blink. It had long since pooled and spilled over the surrounding debris. My heart and mind were racing a thousand miles per second.
"Do. We. Have. A. Deal?" It asked again lowering its ugly face to my own. That faceless devil was enjoying the whole scene playing out before him.
"Y-yes." I whispered.
"Perfect." Its smile widened as I lost consciousness.
….
December 10th, 2012
The office reeked of cheap cologne and coffee, the walls bland and barren leaving nothing to please the eyes. Not even a magazine to look upon as one sat on the old mold ridden couch at the center of the room.
"Best shrink in town my ass," I mumbled to myself. This guy's business was in the shadiest part of town, in a run down office building. How can someone be called 'great' and not afford better accommodations? Holy shit, if this is great I must be fucking crazy!
I am not even supposed to be here. Yet here I am waiting my turn to be told I'm nuts and need high doses of an antidepressant or better yet an anti-psychotic!
"Xander?" The old bean bag of a receptionist called me out of my deep loathing. The bags under her eyes alone made me cringe. This woman was pale with obsidian eyes that seemed to burn your soul with even the smallest glance.
"Yes?" I grumbled.
" will see you now." Her voice crackling in between words grossed me out even more. Just hack out that loogie in your throat already you hag!
I took no time running into the other room and slamming the door shut behind me. Mr. Simmons didn't look up from his paperwork as I sat down in front of him. His old mahogany desk littered with papers, an old coffee mug, and damage rings left by said coffee mug. The office was the same as the waiting room, bland and shitty.
"Xander how are you today?" Simmons asked with the most nonchalant tone as if I was wasting his precious time.
'He cares for his patients Xander, give him a chance.' Bite me Uncle Edmund. Fucking cheap ass.
This man was as useless as they came, gray haired, blue eyes, gangling with wrinkles from head to toe. What the hell? Aren't these quacks supposed to be well groomed? This man smelled as if he hadn't bathed in weeks!
"Fine, can I leave now?" I asked with such heavy disdain in my voice. Maybe this dumb ass will just let me leave.
"No Xander, you will not leave," he replied curtly. His eyes still not leaving the papers in front of him. "Now tell me why you are here and where you want to begin."
"I am being forced to come here. I didn't choose this. Also, don't you have a file or case on my so called 'ailment'? You quacks use that word right?" I spat back.
I had no patience for this bullshit. I'm fine. What happened to me was real and no one can change my mind about it.
"You suffer from long term psychosis brought on by a near death experience which occurred two years ago." He answered with pride causing my brow to rise.
"Well sorry to say Doc but you're wrong. What happened to me was as genuine as the birth of man. There is no way my mind was able to elaborately construct everything I went through for these past two years." I was getting a headache already. Fuck me man.
"You were missing for two years, found by hikers on an off beaten path in the woods just on the outskirts of Richmond." The pen he was using was scraping against the wood, my ears picked up on every T and I he placed on that paper.
"No trauma from the accident," He continued on as my mind began to wander. His voice fading.
…
It was cloudy, the skies once blue were covered in many shades of grey. My truck pulling along the back road smoothly, taking each curve with grace and finesse. These back roads always seemed to calm my cluttered mind. Each curve lulling me to a state of peace and harmony.
My windows were rolled down allowing the cool crisp air to graze the skin of my arm as it hung out. That day wasn't particularly stressful but a pull to take that winding road back home was strong. I felt so free.
…..
"Xander, are you even listening to me?" Simmons' frustration was obvious.
"Not even a little doc." I chuckled to myself as his face contorted in utter distaste.
"Xander, this isn't a game. You need to understand that you are very sick," his pen lowered slightly.
"I am not sick. What happened to me wasn't a game. It was real. You just refuse to take in the truth." My fists were starting to clench, this man was the same as everyone else. Scared and stuck in denial, no one wanted to believe in the supernatural.
"There is no truth in dark entities taking you you prisoner for two years. There is no evidence to support your story," Simmons had stopped writing and looked right at me, his pale blue eyes judging me down to the very core of my being.
"You will see one day when something cannot be explained through science or reason. When that day comes I hope to see your face and watch as realize your 'sickest' patient was right all along." I rose from my chair and left, completely ignoring Simmons' protests.
It was my decision that cost me more than just two years...the deal cost me my life.
