Rachel was in the building, and that was all he needed to release half-suppressed snorts of crazed laughter. He had been waiting for this day for apparent eternities, and now the girl was finally within his grasp.
He had trembled when she entered his office, her face fixed in a stony nonchalance, and her peepers were dull. Déjà vu rocketed him back to the day Mother hung herself:
"You useless, disgusting freak!" she spat before stepping off the chair. Daniel had borne her abuse for many years, and her comments were nothing new. But he couldn't change, and that burned him from the inside out. Anophthalmia was well out of their financial range to be rectified.
Some years after Mother continued swinging, Daniel saw the appeal of the medical career, and he applied to study at medical school as quick as possible.
It was always peepers that called to him. He couldn't get enough of staring at peepers, day in and day out. There were so many colors and abnormalities alike to explore, all waiting for him. His lab professor gifted him with a false peeper upon completing the first year of medical school.
"We can set you up right," his professor had chortled, and Daniel didn't hesitate. Even his own peepers were enticing, and he agreed as fast as he could. Of course, after the procedure, he requested to keep more peepers, for further study. His oculophilia was insatiable, but he simply had to have them.
His interests soon swiveled to psychiatry (thanks to his father's offensive comments), and he found he could derive great joy from watching others' peepers dim, or fill with tears, or narrow and roar at him in unadulterated anger. He hadn't known such a rush since before Mother swung.
Daniel would go home, push his still-hanging mother, and cackle in glee:
"I'm so close, Mother!" Her whitish peepers stared back at him, not offering the validation he looked for.
Graduation came and went, and he was now Dr. Dickens.
His first patient was an obese young adult with severe anxiety and self-esteem problems. He did what he had to do, but no more and no less. Her peepers, a shiny green that made his stomach roil, were the first addition to his collection. He enucleated her with the excuse that if she couldn't see herself, then her mental health would improve. She wasn't nearly as intriguing as he had hoped for. His second patient was no better, an unruly boy of 10 who showed unprecedented fury toward everyone. His boring brown peepers were also harvested, with the pretext of being blind would humble him. This was accepted with no arguments.
It was the third patient that captured his attention and held him enraptured. One Rachel Gardner, traumatized from the sudden death of both her parents and one puppy. The lack of emotion in her eyes forced him to think that it was she who had committed the brutal slaughter, but he said nothing, forcing the pair into more and more sessions. She was the perfect replica of his mother's dead eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to cherish them for as long as he could swing it.
After six more sessions with Rachel than previously planned upon, Daniel was pulled aside by Rachel's caseworker.
"Isn't she done yet?" Daniel merely smiled his professional smile.
"She'll be done when I say she is."