A/N: Thank you Bovine Beauty for your support. I love it. Thanks fox-mccloud on DeviantArt for letting me to include one of your OCs from your fanfic, and editing part of the most of the chapter. I don't know if I should post my fanfic on DeviantArt. I dunno. Here is chapter 9.

Chapter 9: Crying For Help

I woke up. I put on my glasses to see. There will be a psychiatrist or something coming to my door. I don't know who he or she is. The only time I've seen one is when my older sister had an eating disorder. I peeked through the window. I see a car outside. A fox came out with a brief case. I can't get out. I sat down in this bed paranoid.

A few minutes later, I saw the door open to see a fox came in, along with Dr. Taylor. He wore a brown and blue pinstripe suit, with a white formal shirt underneath and a dark necktie. Overall, he looked like any fox except his combed strands of hair and a white-tipped tail. He opened the briefcase he was holding. She spoke first. "Hello. This is Dr. David T. Brushtail. He's a criminal psychiatrist. But, his patient is uh… Not well…"

The fox looked at Dr. Taylor sharply and said, "I prefer not to talk about my patient at this moment, please."

"Oh sorry. I forgot about confidentiality. Umm… I'm going to go to my work before it gets awkward."

"I admit. It has been slightly awkward since you mentioned my patient to her." His voice was formal, but friendly. She left, leaving me and him alone in the room. "Good morning, Ms. Ramsey," the fox smiled. No one really called me like that. "Like Dr. Taylor said, I'm Dr. David T. Brushtail, criminal psychiatrist. You do remind me of my current patient. But that's irrelevant. Dr. Taylor reccommended you to me."

"Thank you, Doctor," I said. "Please call me Charlotte. But I don't need this."

He smiled and nodded, "I understand." Putting some reading glasses on his nose, he asked, "How was your morning?" His voice was calm and relaxing.

This popped into my mind when I thought of my morning. "I tried to get out of here."

Dr. Brushtail pursed his lips in thought, "Why did you try to get out?"

"Don't tell him," the voice ordered. "He's one of them! He can't be trusted!"

My breathing quickened. My pulse sped up. Hyperventilating. I curled up into a ball. He kept a distance, but came closer. Dr. Taylor came running into the room and jumped on the bed. She held a small paper bag. Her comforting embrace. I grabbed the paper bag and breathed into it. It was hypnotizing. I moved the bag away from my face. My breathing was normal. I was a bit calmer. She let go. "Why did you have a panic attack?" she asked.

"The voice said that he's one of them." I whispered, pointing at him.

"He's harmless," she said, taken aback. "He's here to help. Just trust him."

I nodded, trusting her judgement. She added, "It's okay. I'm right here."

Dr. Brushtail repeated the question, his voice gentle and kind, "Why did you try to get out?"

"A voice told me," I said, feeling shaken up.

He wrote something in his notebook before continuing, "What did that voice tell you?"

"That I'm not safe." I fidgeted on the paper bag.

He wrote in his notebook again. "What did the voice say that you're not safe from?"

"Abductors."

He set down his notebook on his lap. "Have you confronted one of those abductors before?"

I thought about it. I never really met them, but I know they're real. "Not really."

He finished his writing and removed his glasses, his tone a thoughtful and considerate one. "You must be scared of the abductors, yes?"

"Yeah." I was quite surprised to see how much he really cared about me, just as much as Levi.

"We're done for now. Thank you for sharing this conversation." He stood up and offered his paw to me. I reached over and took it, feeling no longer afraid of him.

"No problem."

"I must be going. It's been a pleasure to meet you, Charlotte." He remembered to call me by my name.

"Bye, Doctor!" He left the room with a gentle smile on his face.

Dr. Taylor started to speak. "He needs to know what's wrong with you in order to help you. Thanks for cooperating."

"You're welcome," I said.

"Help is coming. I promise." She said in a soft yet serious voice. "I'll be at my desk, okay?"

I nodded. She gave me a thumbs up and went to her desk.

I got a call. It was Stacy. I answered. "Thank God you're okay," she cried. "I wanted to see you, but work, and my family."

"It's okay. I'm fine." I assured her.

"Charlotte, you're my world. And-and I love you as a friend and as a sister." She sounded like she was about to cry. This isn't like her. Essentially while she was grieving. "You're my everything. Yes, I have a boyfriend, but you're my first and long lasting friend, and-and-and I don't want it end because you killed yourself." Her voice was trembling. "I can't even describe what I felt when I heard that you tried to kill yourself. You almost broke my heart."

"I'm sorry," I said. I really felt sorry. I didn't think about how would everyone react to my suicide.

"And-and-" She started to cry. Her weeping wasn't loud and hysterical. It was sweet, quiet. I listened to her crying. I felt like crap. Not because of my arms, but because of how she thought of my suicide. "I'm sorry."

"Don't say sorry. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Thanks." She blew what I think it was a tissue over the phone. "How's the hospital?"

"Good I guess. I get to eat normal food."

"That's good." She snuffled. "Are you always bored."

"Not really. I got the doctor that comes to talk sometimes." I didn't mentioned the camera.

"What's his or her name?" She sniffles again.

"Dr. Lori Taylor."

"I have to go. I hope you get better soon. Bye."

"Bye." She hung up. I missed her. I'm was glad she called me. She's always thoughtful. I should've thanked her for the blind date. Otherwise I wouldn't be alive. I should've thanked Levi for caring and sticking to me in every step of the way. I should thank anyone who takes care of me. I thought about every who cared about me and how should i thank them. I unlocked my phone. I then played on my phone for the rest of the day.