Surprise Surprise!
-----------The only things that is mine in this story are the plot and Doctor Walker (so far). Any characters that you recognise are not mine. I own nothing. If i have taken anything from anyone, i am sorry and i didn't mean to. Don't sue me, i can't pay. But i will dance at your wedding :-) (yes, that is from Red Dragon. That ain't mine either. But all the dialogue in here is!) Here's the story--------------
'Your welcome!' Go right through!'
Clarice walked towards the door and put her hand on the door handle to open it. It gently swung open….
'Ah, Miss Starling. I see that you have finally come in. Now, sit down. Please' Doctor Walker was a tall, rather bulky man. Very intimidating. It didn't help Clarice's wandering mind when she thought of what the blond lady at the desk had said. ' I can't hear a thing. No one but Doctor Walker can hear you…' Yeah, thought Clarice, very comforting. Just what I want to know when I am here to see if I can get a man out of me head. He must have read her thoughts.
'Miss Starling, please. Sit down. I don't bite.' Oh yeah? The other doctor I met did. Hard.
She sat down on the traditional large red sofa. He sat opposite her.
'Now Miss Starling. This session and a few more after will just be for you to get use to
Me, and visa-versa. Do not expect miracles from this single session. I am great, but not THAT great…' He said, running his fingers through his hair. Oh God, Clarice thought, if he's gonna be this vein all the time, than I ain't staying long. She tried to put these thoughts out of her head and managed a fake smile. She looked around the room, noticing that the walls were the same tranquil colour of the walls of the reception outside. The open window allowed the cool breeze to enter, gently lifting the cream coloured curtains. She could tell that he was watching her. Her every move. Just as Hannibal had. But, not with the same intensity. Her eyes shifted slightly to the potted plant underneath the window. She watched as the pink petals swayed slightly from side to side, she could almost see the wind as it brushed past them, but she knew that it was impossible. Once again her eyes moved across the plain wall, only to be greeted by a painting. Clarice had never been one for the arts, and she never knew a good piece, but this. This was different.
It was a simple painting. A black vase holding different types of flowers. But, something about it struck Clarice. It screamed at her. The way the colours in the background melted together, the was the flowers were posed. It didn't seem like much. It wasn't much. Yet it was so moving. So intense. So alive. It seemed to scream. It had a meaning. She had never looked at a painting in this way before. She recalled a field trip to the local art gallery as a child, and the paintings were just paintings. Just paintings. Some had scared her, one painting in particular, the trees had faces that were twisted and evil. She has seen them, yet not seen. She had not seen the significance of the painting, the meaning beneath it. Yet, this one was different. She could not place her hand on it, but she saw under. Doctor Walker noticed her fascination with this piece immediately. He knew that she saw nothing else in this room, except herself and the picture.
'Delightful, isn't it?' He said. Clarice was thrown back into reality, and quickly turned her eyes on him. 'Odilon Redon, 1916. Vase Of Flowers. It truly is a masterpiece, isn't it?'
'Yes, yes it is. I have never liked paintings and such. But, this is just beautiful. It really is.' Clarice said. He was about to speak, but she interrupted him. 'It has a meaning, I think This seems to speak to me.'
'And what does it say?'
'I don't know really. I can't put my finger on it. It seems…. almost like…..' She stopped.
'Like what?' He asked. A pause as she was thinking.
'Like love.' She said simply.
'I see. Well Miss Starling, you are almost correct. Have you seen any more of Redon's paintings? Many are much alike. His brilliantly coloured flowers, landscapes, and literary subjects have a romantic, dreamlike quality. That is almost love. Many would argue that it IS love.'
'I wouldn't.' Clarice said quietly.
'Oh really Miss Starling. And why is that?'
'I think that romance and love are two different things. I have had many romances in my life, but not true love. Therefore I could not tell you what is love, and what is not.' She stopped. Love. She had felt love. But not had it returned.
'And are you sure that you have never felt love. Or is that not why are here today?' He said, slyly. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, he eyes on the floor. She didn't want to talk about that yet, and he knew it. So he changed the subject back. 'If you have never felt love, then why was the first thing that you believed this picture symbolised was love?' Another pause.
'Because I have felt love in a dream. But it was not true love.'
'And why not?'
'Because it wasn't returned.' They was a silence, telling Clarice that he did not have a reply to her comment. And at that, a shrill alarm rung from the clock, telling them both that her time was up, and if she wanted extra, she would have to pay. They arranged to meet the same time next week, and she swiftly left.
When Clarice had left, Doctor Walker began to make notes of her. An evaluation, he like to call it. He listened to the tape of their conversation before beginning. The blond receptionist had left early. As he was writing, he heard the door creak open. Guessing that it was only the wind, the thought nothing of it. He carried on writing, until a slightly raspy voice came from behind him.
'Good evening Doctor Walker.'
-----------The only things that is mine in this story are the plot and Doctor Walker (so far). Any characters that you recognise are not mine. I own nothing. If i have taken anything from anyone, i am sorry and i didn't mean to. Don't sue me, i can't pay. But i will dance at your wedding :-) (yes, that is from Red Dragon. That ain't mine either. But all the dialogue in here is!) Here's the story--------------
'Your welcome!' Go right through!'
Clarice walked towards the door and put her hand on the door handle to open it. It gently swung open….
'Ah, Miss Starling. I see that you have finally come in. Now, sit down. Please' Doctor Walker was a tall, rather bulky man. Very intimidating. It didn't help Clarice's wandering mind when she thought of what the blond lady at the desk had said. ' I can't hear a thing. No one but Doctor Walker can hear you…' Yeah, thought Clarice, very comforting. Just what I want to know when I am here to see if I can get a man out of me head. He must have read her thoughts.
'Miss Starling, please. Sit down. I don't bite.' Oh yeah? The other doctor I met did. Hard.
She sat down on the traditional large red sofa. He sat opposite her.
'Now Miss Starling. This session and a few more after will just be for you to get use to
Me, and visa-versa. Do not expect miracles from this single session. I am great, but not THAT great…' He said, running his fingers through his hair. Oh God, Clarice thought, if he's gonna be this vein all the time, than I ain't staying long. She tried to put these thoughts out of her head and managed a fake smile. She looked around the room, noticing that the walls were the same tranquil colour of the walls of the reception outside. The open window allowed the cool breeze to enter, gently lifting the cream coloured curtains. She could tell that he was watching her. Her every move. Just as Hannibal had. But, not with the same intensity. Her eyes shifted slightly to the potted plant underneath the window. She watched as the pink petals swayed slightly from side to side, she could almost see the wind as it brushed past them, but she knew that it was impossible. Once again her eyes moved across the plain wall, only to be greeted by a painting. Clarice had never been one for the arts, and she never knew a good piece, but this. This was different.
It was a simple painting. A black vase holding different types of flowers. But, something about it struck Clarice. It screamed at her. The way the colours in the background melted together, the was the flowers were posed. It didn't seem like much. It wasn't much. Yet it was so moving. So intense. So alive. It seemed to scream. It had a meaning. She had never looked at a painting in this way before. She recalled a field trip to the local art gallery as a child, and the paintings were just paintings. Just paintings. Some had scared her, one painting in particular, the trees had faces that were twisted and evil. She has seen them, yet not seen. She had not seen the significance of the painting, the meaning beneath it. Yet, this one was different. She could not place her hand on it, but she saw under. Doctor Walker noticed her fascination with this piece immediately. He knew that she saw nothing else in this room, except herself and the picture.
'Delightful, isn't it?' He said. Clarice was thrown back into reality, and quickly turned her eyes on him. 'Odilon Redon, 1916. Vase Of Flowers. It truly is a masterpiece, isn't it?'
'Yes, yes it is. I have never liked paintings and such. But, this is just beautiful. It really is.' Clarice said. He was about to speak, but she interrupted him. 'It has a meaning, I think This seems to speak to me.'
'And what does it say?'
'I don't know really. I can't put my finger on it. It seems…. almost like…..' She stopped.
'Like what?' He asked. A pause as she was thinking.
'Like love.' She said simply.
'I see. Well Miss Starling, you are almost correct. Have you seen any more of Redon's paintings? Many are much alike. His brilliantly coloured flowers, landscapes, and literary subjects have a romantic, dreamlike quality. That is almost love. Many would argue that it IS love.'
'I wouldn't.' Clarice said quietly.
'Oh really Miss Starling. And why is that?'
'I think that romance and love are two different things. I have had many romances in my life, but not true love. Therefore I could not tell you what is love, and what is not.' She stopped. Love. She had felt love. But not had it returned.
'And are you sure that you have never felt love. Or is that not why are here today?' He said, slyly. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, he eyes on the floor. She didn't want to talk about that yet, and he knew it. So he changed the subject back. 'If you have never felt love, then why was the first thing that you believed this picture symbolised was love?' Another pause.
'Because I have felt love in a dream. But it was not true love.'
'And why not?'
'Because it wasn't returned.' They was a silence, telling Clarice that he did not have a reply to her comment. And at that, a shrill alarm rung from the clock, telling them both that her time was up, and if she wanted extra, she would have to pay. They arranged to meet the same time next week, and she swiftly left.
When Clarice had left, Doctor Walker began to make notes of her. An evaluation, he like to call it. He listened to the tape of their conversation before beginning. The blond receptionist had left early. As he was writing, he heard the door creak open. Guessing that it was only the wind, the thought nothing of it. He carried on writing, until a slightly raspy voice came from behind him.
'Good evening Doctor Walker.'