"Dr. Furter will see you now."
Feral Hane walked hesitantly to the psychologist's door. The golden nameplate read 'Dr. Frank N. Furter, Psychology, Master's Degree'.
Feral had never really liked psychologists very much. She felt that they were heartless, cruel people, pretending to care about others and their feelings only for a paycheck. Of course, her mother would hear none of that. She had insisted that Feral needed help, saying that no seventeen- year-old girl should be so depressed.
She sighed as she opened the heavy wooden door. She was fairly uneasy, since she found it hard to talk to men. They seemed very intimidating to her, and she always felt that they were cruelly sizing her up. When she saw Dr. Furter, however, he did not seem too threatening.
He sat behind an oak desk, his feet resting politely under his chair. He wore a thin, black shirt and gray pants. Feral noted, with a slight churn in her stomach, his green eyes, curly shoulder-length hair, and friendly smile, as he stood up to greet her.
"Miss Hane, good morning."
She smiled slightly as she shook his hand. "Hello, Dr. Furter.."
He asked, "Feral Hane? Does anyone call you Fay?"
Feral looked perplexed, "Er..no..why?"
Dr. Furter chuckled softly as he sat back down at his desk. "It's not too important.. I'm a sci-fi movie fan.. You know.. King Kong.. Fay Wray.. all that stuff."
She smiled "Oh, I get it."
"May I call you Fay?"
She shrugged, "I don't mind."
Frank sifted through his papers as he replied, "Splendid. You may call me Frank." He then gestured to a cushion-less chair as he pulled a paper from the pile he had been sifting through. "Do sit down, Fay. We have an hour, after all."
She obeyed. She had noticed that Frank had a feathery English accent, smooth and reassuring, untouched by an American drawl. She had also discovered that something about him was odd; she just couldn't quite place what it was.
After a moment of long, slightly awkward silence, she asked, "What's the paper?"
He cleared his throat, spinning lazily back and forth in his chair, "Your file. It says you are a depressed seventeen-year-old girl who is involved in self-destructive habits and illegal usage of marijuana.." He then eyed Fay suspiciously, "I find that hard to believe."
Fay shrugged helplessly, "I am a little depressed, but my mom only thinks I do drugs and cut myself.. Just because I'm sad doesn't mean I'm a cutter."
Frank nodded as he skimmed the rest of the paper again, " I believe you."
There was no more said on the subject, and Fay was quite surprised. She had been sure Frank would have wanted to see he wrists or something.
But Frank really did believe her. He was intrigued by her quiet radiance. Every other girl he had come in contact with since.. well, since he left the castle, had always never stopped talking. That included his secretary, Jade Pawns, just outside the door. It unnerved him to know that even after he had permanently hung up his fishnets (and his outwardly perverted nature), people still could not avoid being attracted to him.
As he continued to graze her 'hindering traits' he said quietly, " So, is there anything wrong with you?"
Fay raised an eyebrow and seemed to judge his seriousness, "What do you mean?"
Frank sighed and stood up. "I mean, what is wrong with you, for you to be here?"
She fidgeted, "I'm depressed and corrupted."
Frank sat on his cherry oak desk forcefully. "No.. that's what you're being told. From here on in, when I ask you a question, you give me your answer." He stared at the floor for a second, then looked back up and asked, "So, what's wrong with you?"
Feral crossed her legs as she nodded, "I'm not comfortable.."
Frank smiled, "Aha. With what are you uncomfortable?"
"My life as it's going just now."
Frank nodded, "That's better than what any book's diagnosis will tell you." He wet his lips with his tongue, "I've had my fair share of shit, also."
Feral winced. She hadn't expected coarse language from a professional. Frank saw this reaction. "Sorry", he apologized.
She shook her head, "No, it's okay, I just wasn't expecting it.. you sound different when you're.. informal."
Frank cringed in the slightest, "Really? How so?"
"Well.. I don't know.. You're.. well.. rougher."
"You don't say.. Either way, I've been through a lot, too. That's why I trained to be a psychologist."
Fay leaned forward eagerly, "What happened to you?"
Frank waved a dismissive hand, "Nothing worth repeating.. Anyway, I think I'll cut you loose early today.."
Her eyes widened, "I've only been here a half-hour!"
He nodded slowly, "Well, take your time heading home, then. I feel a bit of a migraine coming on.."
She stood and shook his hand, "Thanks, Dr. .. Uh.. Frank."
He smiled warmly, "It's been my pleasure, Fay. I'll see you tomorrow, your mother's orders.."
With that she walked briskly into the main lobby of the complex, shutting Frank's office door behind her.
The secretary looked up, "He sent you home from one of his headaches?"
She froze, "Yes.. Does it happen often?"
"Periodically. I'll sign you out. Have a good day."
Fay left the building then, thinking, "He's okay.. for a psychologist.."
Feral Hane walked hesitantly to the psychologist's door. The golden nameplate read 'Dr. Frank N. Furter, Psychology, Master's Degree'.
Feral had never really liked psychologists very much. She felt that they were heartless, cruel people, pretending to care about others and their feelings only for a paycheck. Of course, her mother would hear none of that. She had insisted that Feral needed help, saying that no seventeen- year-old girl should be so depressed.
She sighed as she opened the heavy wooden door. She was fairly uneasy, since she found it hard to talk to men. They seemed very intimidating to her, and she always felt that they were cruelly sizing her up. When she saw Dr. Furter, however, he did not seem too threatening.
He sat behind an oak desk, his feet resting politely under his chair. He wore a thin, black shirt and gray pants. Feral noted, with a slight churn in her stomach, his green eyes, curly shoulder-length hair, and friendly smile, as he stood up to greet her.
"Miss Hane, good morning."
She smiled slightly as she shook his hand. "Hello, Dr. Furter.."
He asked, "Feral Hane? Does anyone call you Fay?"
Feral looked perplexed, "Er..no..why?"
Dr. Furter chuckled softly as he sat back down at his desk. "It's not too important.. I'm a sci-fi movie fan.. You know.. King Kong.. Fay Wray.. all that stuff."
She smiled "Oh, I get it."
"May I call you Fay?"
She shrugged, "I don't mind."
Frank sifted through his papers as he replied, "Splendid. You may call me Frank." He then gestured to a cushion-less chair as he pulled a paper from the pile he had been sifting through. "Do sit down, Fay. We have an hour, after all."
She obeyed. She had noticed that Frank had a feathery English accent, smooth and reassuring, untouched by an American drawl. She had also discovered that something about him was odd; she just couldn't quite place what it was.
After a moment of long, slightly awkward silence, she asked, "What's the paper?"
He cleared his throat, spinning lazily back and forth in his chair, "Your file. It says you are a depressed seventeen-year-old girl who is involved in self-destructive habits and illegal usage of marijuana.." He then eyed Fay suspiciously, "I find that hard to believe."
Fay shrugged helplessly, "I am a little depressed, but my mom only thinks I do drugs and cut myself.. Just because I'm sad doesn't mean I'm a cutter."
Frank nodded as he skimmed the rest of the paper again, " I believe you."
There was no more said on the subject, and Fay was quite surprised. She had been sure Frank would have wanted to see he wrists or something.
But Frank really did believe her. He was intrigued by her quiet radiance. Every other girl he had come in contact with since.. well, since he left the castle, had always never stopped talking. That included his secretary, Jade Pawns, just outside the door. It unnerved him to know that even after he had permanently hung up his fishnets (and his outwardly perverted nature), people still could not avoid being attracted to him.
As he continued to graze her 'hindering traits' he said quietly, " So, is there anything wrong with you?"
Fay raised an eyebrow and seemed to judge his seriousness, "What do you mean?"
Frank sighed and stood up. "I mean, what is wrong with you, for you to be here?"
She fidgeted, "I'm depressed and corrupted."
Frank sat on his cherry oak desk forcefully. "No.. that's what you're being told. From here on in, when I ask you a question, you give me your answer." He stared at the floor for a second, then looked back up and asked, "So, what's wrong with you?"
Feral crossed her legs as she nodded, "I'm not comfortable.."
Frank smiled, "Aha. With what are you uncomfortable?"
"My life as it's going just now."
Frank nodded, "That's better than what any book's diagnosis will tell you." He wet his lips with his tongue, "I've had my fair share of shit, also."
Feral winced. She hadn't expected coarse language from a professional. Frank saw this reaction. "Sorry", he apologized.
She shook her head, "No, it's okay, I just wasn't expecting it.. you sound different when you're.. informal."
Frank cringed in the slightest, "Really? How so?"
"Well.. I don't know.. You're.. well.. rougher."
"You don't say.. Either way, I've been through a lot, too. That's why I trained to be a psychologist."
Fay leaned forward eagerly, "What happened to you?"
Frank waved a dismissive hand, "Nothing worth repeating.. Anyway, I think I'll cut you loose early today.."
Her eyes widened, "I've only been here a half-hour!"
He nodded slowly, "Well, take your time heading home, then. I feel a bit of a migraine coming on.."
She stood and shook his hand, "Thanks, Dr. .. Uh.. Frank."
He smiled warmly, "It's been my pleasure, Fay. I'll see you tomorrow, your mother's orders.."
With that she walked briskly into the main lobby of the complex, shutting Frank's office door behind her.
The secretary looked up, "He sent you home from one of his headaches?"
She froze, "Yes.. Does it happen often?"
"Periodically. I'll sign you out. Have a good day."
Fay left the building then, thinking, "He's okay.. for a psychologist.."