The Boogeyman

“Murray, time to wake up. That’s right, very good. Now take a deep breath. Let me help you sit up. Here drink this you’ll feel better.”

Murray’s eyelids fluttered open as he took a moment to comprehend waking reality. He’d forgotten he was lying on the couch in Doctor Rosen’s office. The only thing he remembered was being wide awake one minute, and sleeping the next.

The doctor handed him a glass of cold water. “Here you go, take this; to take off the edge.” Murray swallowed the blue colored pill in the paper cup next to him; Prozac always took the edge off and made him feel much better. How he wished he didn’t have to depend on them so much.

“How are you feeling?” Doctor Rosen gently prodded, placing his hand on his patient’s shoulder, examining him with regard. “It was a tough session this time but you pulled through like a champ. I’m proud of you.”

Murray pushed himself deeper into the leather sofa. He rubbed his forehead and eyes. Pausing for a brief moment to adjust to the bright sunlight in the room, he blinked twice. Doctor Rosen had opened the drapes in the meantime, and looked at his patient. “I think I will be all right,” Murray managed to mumble. “I feel the same as always after you place me under. I just need some rest once I get home.”

Doctor Rosen grinned, the light glinting off his warm, friendly face. “I’m sure,” he said reassuringly.

“Just do as I said. If the dreams become more lucid and you feel they have pulled you in, do not hesitate to call me immediately.”

Murray didn’t remember much of anything this visit, even as little as he normally did, which frightened him more than usual. All he could remember was walking through the door of the office, acknowledging the doctor, and lying down on the couch. It was always the same each time.

He checked his watch; it was four o’ clock in the afternoon. His original appointment was for one o’ clock. Concern began to well inside him. One more hour and it would be dark, since it was winter time in Boston. The frigid winters of the city always brought on a biting chill that permeated through the warmest of clothing and bored right down to his bare skin.

Murray slowly stood up, took a deep stretch and walked over to the coat rack with a quiet, withdrawn attitude. He grabbed his wool jacket and shrugged into it, wrapping the scarf around his neck exactly the way his mother showed him when he was a little boy, before pulling his gloves from the pocket and shoving his hands into them.

Doctor Rosen sighed. “I do apologize for keeping you this late,” he said. “I promise not to do the same on your next visit, all right?” He clapped his patient on the shoulder. “We need to get inside your mind a bit more to the trouble spot. I do feel we are making progress. Shall I call you a taxi or did you drive yourself as we discussed that last visit?”

I have my car today. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine, Doctor Rosen. I can drive myself home now. My car is down in the parking garage in my usual spot near the elevators.”

The doctor nodded while he watched Murray exit his office. We all have fears that dwell deep within us, he thought, it’s not easy to admit you’re afraid of the boogeyman who haunts your dreams at night.