Frankie never liked hospitals. She hated the musky scent of rubber gloves and the insistent beeping of heart monitors (or any monitor in general). She never liked the overly peppy nurses or the jackass doctors who thought that they were better than everyone else. She absolutely detested the secretary at the front desk who always wore too much lipstick in a bright red shade that obviously wasn't her shade.
She absolutely loathed the hospital gown that parted so you could see her ass. Not that it wasn't a cute ass, but still - she felt violated, nonetheless.
But what was even worse than the hospital, Frankie soon came to realize, were the psychologists.
She hated them the most.
"Don't worry Frankie," he soothed as he stood next to her. His eyes glimmered as he winked, looking back at the dark oakwood door that stood in between Frankie and her dreaded psychologist. "There's nothing wrong with you."
"Get out of my head…" Frankie's voice was shaky as she shouldered past the dark, blond-haired man. He only smirked at her retreating figure as she turned the doorknob, pushing the door open.
Be normal. Just this once.
Her psychologist, Dr Mathew Lloyd, was a kind man with kind eyes. Frankie knew she could have been given worse, but she still entered the room gingerly, the smell of black coffee and old books greeting her. Dr LLoyd stood up, his brown eyes brightening at the sight of Frankie. He held out his hand, the same gesture as always, as the girl timidly approached him.
Be normal. Just for today.
Frankie hesitated, glancing at his hand then at the place surrounding them. Although she had been in the room around five times for every day therapy (which had been prescribed to her just a week ago), the office still seemed strange. She could hear whispers in the distance. She swallowed: they're not real, they're not real, they're not real, they're not real.
"Don't worry Frankster," he patted her right shoulder comfortingly as he sat in the other leather chair next to Frankie's designated seat. His blue eyes sparkled mockingly at her as he keenly anticipated the girl's reaction. "It'll be okay. I'm right here."
She watched as he casually rested his feet on the coffee table. Dr Lloyd continued to stare at Frankie, his outstretched hand wavering awkwardly.
Be normal. Just this once.
Dr Lloyd cleared his throat. Frankie glanced at him, smiling awkwardly as she finally shook his hand. It felt rough and dry - obviously the guy never heard of lotion.
"Alright." Dr Lloyd cleared his throat as he sat down in the leather sofa across from Frankie - she noticed as he crossed his left leg over his right - as he clicked open his pen, clipboard in hand. He flipped through previous sessions, humming a little as he licked the tip of his fingers and flicked through the information. Frankie flinched.
She hated when people licked their fingers and touched paper.
She hated him asking her questions.
She hated not being normal.
Be normal because you can.
She hated hearing different things than others. Inhuman things, in fact, almost as if they were the screams of hell. She didn't like waking up in the middle of the night because he was always there, bothering her. She didn't like how she was so sleep deprived she would fall asleep during lunch hours.
She didn't like him. She didn't like Dr Lloyd. She didn't like anyone.
Be normal because you are.
"-cesca… Francesca?"
Frankie shook her head, being brought back to reality. Dr Lloyd's deep voice seemed to ring in her ears. She shifted her position, her fingers enlacing one another and began to play with one another - she tended to pick at the cuticles surrounding her nails when she felt distressed or uncomfortable; Dr Lloyd's voice was one of the things that made her uncomfortable. She didn't like how deep it was - she didn't think it suited his face - and she also wasn't fond of the musky scent that seemed to intoxicate the entire office.
Obviously the guy never heard of air fresheners, either.
"This place reeks," blue-eyes commented quite rudely. His face scrunched up in disgust and in a few seconds flat, returned to normal when he noticed that Frankie was looking at him again. He winked once more before pointing a finger at Dr Lloyd. Frankie looked in the direction to see her psychologist writing down something on the clipboard.
"How are you feeling today, Francesca?" he asked, not looking up from his notes. Once he finished writing he uncrossed his legs, setting the clipboard on his lap as he looked back up at Frankie, his brown eyes seeming to bore into her mind… looking into her soul, almost.
"Good," responded Frankie. She stared at the floor. Instead of a mucky, old carpet that she presumed the first time she came here, it was polished wooden floor - a dark wood, similar to the door. If she wanted to be pretentious with her colors, she would have described it as a cherry wood.
Dr Lloyd nodded to her response, a tiny smile crossing his face. Frankie squirmed once more in her leather chair - she felt as if she were sinking into it. She heard Dr Lloyd click his pen once more to see he was taking more notes. She silently scolded herself for being so squeamish - her aunt and uncle already thought she was insane and she was already acting too suspicious for her likings.
"Do you think maybe today you can tell me what happened to your parents?" Dr Lloyd asked.
Frankie shook her head on instinct. She hated talking about her parents murder since no one chose to believe her. Not only was it the cause of her being diagnosed as schizophrenic, but ever since they died he had started following her everywhere. Frankie didn't' like that either.
Almost as much as she didn't like hospitals, or crappy hospital gowns, loud beeping machines, the tv show Pretty Little Liars and Dr Lloyd and his fakeass smile and smelly office.
"I'm going to prescribe you this medication," Dr Lloyd started as he began jotting down some more information, now on a separate sheet of paper. "Give it to Nurse Lauren once you get back."
Frankie heard him snort from beside her. Her eyes flickered to the left, attempting not to look at him full-on. She finally gave up, meeting his gaze full on, her eyes narrowing at him. He met her gaze, shrugging nonchalantly, then continued to look around the office. "Kind of a bland place, don't you think? Would look better with some… oh, I don't know, dead bodies… blood… torture de-"
Frankie shut her eyes.
Be normal. Just this once.
"You know what? Maybe I can call my buddies down here. Brighten up the place a little. It's soooo boring here," he continued.
Be normal because you can.
He cleared his throat, although Frankie had trouble deciphering it from either Dr Lloyd or him.
Be normal because you are.
"Actually, maybe demons will liven up the place. You know what? I'll call them-"
"Shut up, Lucifer!" Frankie screamed, covering her ears. "Just shut the fuck up!"
Frankie heard Dr Lloyd rip the very paper he was writing on, causing her to open her eyes, staring at the wood floor. She swallowed, her throat dry - she was surely fucked now.
"Lucifer?" Dr Lloyd questioned.
fix this, fix this, fix this, fix this. "Um."
"Is that who you think is talking to you?" Lloyd continued to ask. He raised an eyebrow. "Lucifer as in… Satan?"
"I-" Frankie stammered.
"Shame," he drawled, standing up from his seat as he sauntered towards Dr Lloyd, standing behind him. He waved his hand in front of the doctor's face. He didn't even flinch. He looked back up at Frankie. "Guess you really are looney, Frankster."
Frankie bit her lip, watching the angel-gone-dark standing behind the psychologist-she-obviously-didn't-need. "After all," he continued, tapping the side of his head, near the right of his temple. "How can I be all the way up here if I'm all the way down there?" he lowered his finger to point at the ground.
Frankie must have twitched or her face distorted in some form of disgust, for Dr Lloyd cleared his throat. She could hear in his tone that he was trying his hardest to remain as calm as ever. "Frankie, I want to help you. But I can't help you if you won't let me. You need to tell me what happened that night."
"Ooh, yeah Frankie, I'd like that. Let me get the popcorn and call up some of my buddies from downstairs and we can have a day of reminiscence - The Day Frankie Joined the Dark Side." He made large hand gestures before sauntering towards her, stopping right in front of her. He knelt down so he could be eye level as a smirk crossed his face. Frankie continued to stare at him. She thought it was cruel to have such a beautiful… what did he call it? a 'vessel'?... become so distorted due to the fact it was holding Lucifer himself. His blue eyes captivated her - baby blue eyes, the only thing she sort of liked about him. He rested a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Sorry," he continued. "We don't have cookies."