Oh, I am sooooooooo sorry that I haven't updated in... forever! Please forgive me! Hopefully, I haven't lost my touch. I must warn you. My new obsession right now is "The Phantom of the Opera," so if you find any references, they are not mine and blame my insanity.
Review Praises:
Lauren: Don't worry, I know who you are. Thanks for reviewing!
Chaos-CAT1: I am sooooooooo sorry for not updating sooner. Thank you for reminding me! And the journal is more of an obsessive icon, not anger-building. Thanks for reviewing!
way2beme: Thanks! I am glad that you are liking it.
Disclaimer: Butch Hartman is the genius who owns the rights to Danny Phantom, not me. But anything that you don't recognize is mine and mine alone!
Here's chapter four, faithful (or not-so-faithful) readers. Enjoy.
"... and now, I have lost control of my powers for the third time. In two days!" I concluded. My parents had come and gotten me from schoolAt this moment, I was in the living room, sitting rigidly on a large chair and reliving the past two days.
Mom and Dad stared at me like I was insane — I probably am, but that's not the point — and was foaming at the mouth, speaking gibberish. Great, I thought. Bring out the tranquilizers. Mom finally spoke up.
"Maybe it's not the best idea to have moved here..." she said in a timid voice. Was she afraid of me!
"Rayna, we believed that this move was for the best. To get you away from the city. To a more quiet, peaceful place, but I can see that you have had trouble adapting," Dad began a lecture. "Rayna, you have wedged yourself into a very tight situation. The only options I can see right now are either quit using your powers, take therapy, or home school you."
I stared at him, mouth agape. Give up my powers! How could he ask that of me! Therapy? I am not that insane. And you never really know what they do to you. With all that sedative and hypnosis, they could do anything. Sounded like home schooling was the best option. I still didn't want to go through with it.
"C–couldn't you give me a while to think it over?" I requested. Dad stared at me and nodded. He knows I'm not a bad kid. For that, I am thankful. "May I be excused?" I made another request. "You may. There's a lot to think about," Mom added. She still sounded scared.
I flew to my room. Once there, I closed the door. Then I took a good hard look at my room. all boxes, most of them spilled all over the place. Stupid sleeping habit.
I opened one of the boxes and let the contents float a few feet above the ground. Clothes, clothes, a few CD's. Aha! That's what I need! Music. After all, music soothes the savage beast, and I was being treated like one.
On my third try, I found my CD player. One of my CD's had classical music: my favorite. I can't stand most music out there now. Instantly, I felt better. Music was wafting through my head. I felt like dancing. But I wouldn't.
I laid down on my air mattress. The day was still relatively bright, and I had nothing to do. I wouldn't go anywhere. Too risky. I began to think, but I found the music floating through my mind.
Instantly, I shot up. Was this obsessive music like the journal I had been given? I reached for the case; nothing different. And I had had the CD for about two years, so it's not a recent present. Oy, my head hurt. Why does it hurt to think?
I heard a tapping on my window. Danny! School must be out, or he called home sick, too. I thrust open the window and greeted him warmly. I saw him looking around my room and I instantly felt embarrassed. How messy!
He smiled and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, um... thanks. For saving my life. You kick butt!" He said. I was flattered. "Danny, I really should be thanking you. That stupid little book had a hold on me, and you broke it." He blushed.
I tried to strike up a conversation. "How did you... you know... get ghost powers?" I asked. I regretted the words. Stupid, stupid me! "A freak accident in my parent's lab. What about you?" Wow. Strong words. I don't remember the last time I was asked that. Only once, maybe.
"I was in a car wreck. Head on collision. No one died, but I had a head injury and slipped into a coma. I think the doctors said I was in it for about three months. When I snapped out of it, I had all these powers. It must've triggered something in my brain, all that head trauma," I finished.
Danny looked a little embarrassed."Oh, I'm sorry. Really, I am," he sounded real upset. I smiled. "Don't be. I already said no one died, and if it didn't happen, I couldn't have saved your life." Boy, was I lame.
Danny turned toward the window. "Wait, don't go," I said. I don't think that he heard me. Oh, well. He's good company. I again became aware that my music was on, and abandoned thought again.
At about 7:00, I went downstairs again. Mom and Dad were talking. Should I tap into their thoughts? No. I wasn't allowed. Only when they requested it. So I floated down like a specter and waited till I got their attention.
Instantly, they pasted on smiles. Did I scare them that much? "Rayna, your mother and I were talking, and we believe that you should see a therapist. Home schooling is out of the question. You must confront your problems instead of hiding from them. The therapy will help," Dad informed me. I hesitated. "Are there no other options?" I asked. "No," he said flatly. I knew there wasn't.
"What're they gonna do to me?" I asked. Therapy was intimidating to me. They know if you lie. "Oh, probably ask some questions, take some tests, and just talk to you. That is their job, you know."
"N–no hypnotism?" I was quivering.
"None that I know of, and besides, you won't even know it." He sounded so calm. What was happening? I could feel something was wrong. Temptation welled up inside me to read his thoughts but I didn't want to lose his trust. After all, he is my Dad.
I sighed. No way I could win. "Fine, I'll go," I muttered. It didn't feel right.
"Oh, man, Rayna! A therapist? I feel sorry for you!" Sam said. I was at lunch. Wherever I had gone, I had received odd glances. That was all. No one said anything. At least, not to me. I could feel their fear. And disgust.
"Yeah, I know. It was my parents' idea. They think it'll help me," I chuckled. "Highly doubt it," Sam told me, gesturing around the cafeteria. "If they knew what this school was like, everyone would be in therapy. Just look at it!"
I did. I saw jocks, the nerds being beat up by jocks, the monarchy of the school, the wanna-be's, us, one teacher who appeared to be asleep, and the lunch lady. The place was a zoo. No denying it. Sam, Tucker, Danny and I were the only ones who were at least mostly sane. Kinda sad, really.
"Come on, Sam. You exaggerate. It's not that bad," Tucker said. Of course, he wouldn't know. His eyes were affixed to his P.D.A. And he said that I had an obsession problem. "Tucker, are you kidding! Look at Dash! He's so full of himself I'm surprised he doesn't wear 'I heart Dash' shirts! And that Paulina..." Sam started to go at.
In unison, as if on cue, Tucker and Danny cooed, "Paulina..." as she walked by. Paulina shot a hard, hating glance at me. I just waved happily. Why is she here! I thought she got expelled! Someone's gonna pay for this! Paulina thought. I laughed a fake laugh. What could she do? I had won. Yet I felt sickeningly empty.
"Good bye, Rayna! We'll pick you up at 4:30!" Mom called to me as she dropped me off at my therapist's office. "Dr. Nancy Curry," I read. But below it, a newer sign read "And Dr. James Rhodes." Most likely mine.
I walked through the double doors to be greeted by an overly-cheerful receptionist. "Well, hello there! You must be Rayna, the little 'psychic' girl!" I could sense the sarcasm in her voice. So she didn't believe, eh? "Dr. Rhodes was anxious to have you as a patient! He's waiting just behind that door!" she pointed to a wooden door on the far side of the room.
I began to walk over. Then I heard her, the receptionist. "Poor child thinks she's got powers..." she said. I scoffed. I turned around and she smiled at me. I envisioned her in her chair. I closed my eyes and willed the chair to rise. Of course it did, and I heard the lady gasp. Now she's a believer!
I cautiously opened the door. When the receptionist said "just behind that door," she really meant it. The instant I walked in, I came face to face with him. He was slightly old, maybe forty or a little older with thick black hair. He wore a dark blue dressy shirt and khaki pants. He was wearing a smile, but it looked fake.
He stuck his hand out. I put my hand in his and shook it. "Hi, Rayna. I'm Dr. Rhodes, but please, call me James. Now, if you'll just follow me." With that, he began walking down a hallway toward a room in the back. He didn't even let go of my hand, like I was a child.
Finally, he stopped in front of a plain looking room. there was a row of books, a therapy couch (A/N: What are those really called?) and a large chair. He sat in the chair, and I took a seat on the couch. And so a scripted conversation began. Really. It sounded like it had been rehearsed.
"So, Rayna, how are you?" he asked.
"Okay, I guess," I muttered.
"You guess? Why?"
"Because I'm here when I don't need to be."
"Do you have any friends?"
"Yes."
"Do you go to school?"
"Yes,"
"Are your friends at school?"
"Yes,"
"Very good, very good, Rayna! But you an answer in more than one syllable."
"But I never need to," Boy, that was dumb.
"Rayna, tell me about yourself."
"I'm Rayna Gregor. I am fourteen and am a vegetarian. I am in the ninth grade. I live with both of my parents and have no siblings or pets. That's it, really," I said.
He nodded. "Why do you wear so much black?" he asked. I looked at myself. I wore a pair of black capris with a black shirt that looks like it was spray painted multiple colors.
"I am mourning for the loss of individuality and creativity in the world," I stated.
"Uh-huh. And my report shows that you pretend that you have... psychic abilities?" Here, he paused. "I don't just pretend, I know."I told him. Here, he chuckled. "You don't believe me?" I asked him.
"Could you please show me?" he asked politely. Must I show everyone? Can't anyone just take my word for it! "Okay... think of something. Anything in particular. Don't make this easy," I ordered.
He chuckled again but closed his eyes. Why? A few seconds later, he opened them again. "Okay, Rayna, what am I thinking?" I looked at him. "You're thinking... if your eighteen-year-old son will be back from Chicago in time for your and your wife's anniversary tomorrow," I stated.
Dr. Rhodes didn't look too impressed. "Very good, Rayna, but now, make something move," he told me. I looked around; there really wasn't that much stuff in there, so I played the same trick I played on the happy receptionist.
He smirked and said in a sing-song voice, "I'm waiting." I closed my eyes and envisioned him in the chair. I saw it vividly and willed the chair to move upward. I opened my eyes and watched it happen.
He clapped. A slightly mocking clap, though. I still wasn't good enough for him! What was wrong ! "One last thing, Rayna: make something appear," he said. My eyes widened. I had never done that! "What!" I asked.
"You heard me, make something appear. Anything. Try it. You never know what you can do till you try." He eyed me up. What was he doing? Most (if not all) people are in complete shock by now. "What do you want me to do?" I asked. "Bring me... a pencil. From the corner store."
I tried imagining a pencil on a counter at the store. Nothing happened. There must've not have been one, or I would've been able to move it here. "I... can't," I confessed. He smiled a nice smile, one that seemed real.
I heard something go off. "Oh, time's done. Thank you, Rayna. You did very good. See you next week!" he said cheerfully.
I belted out of there. I didn't like him. Just a feeling. Only a few minutes after I had left the building, Mom pulled up. She seemed happier and less scared than she had yesterday. Good. I hate seeing Mom afraid of me.
"So... how was it?" she asked, trying to make small talk.
"Okay, I guess..." I mumbled.
"What did they do?"
"Asked me stuff, then the therapist kept on making me use my powers."
"Hmm, well, I'm sure he had his reasons." That was it. The two minute conversation was over. We rode home in silence.
Well, what do you think! I'm sorry (again) for not updating in forever. I'm just lazy. XD
Three reviews, please, and I shall try to update a lot sooner than the last time. And, I have an idea for a Danny Phantom of the Opera story. Hopefully, that will be original. Two of my obsessions in one! Yay! Okay, bye.
-DaydreamingTurtle-
