--- -. .
“So how’s your week been going, Samael?” Mrs. Doxon asked. She was a fair lady with high intelligence. Her walls were full of family portraits and degrees and her desk was crowded with many files. I’ve been meeting her for two months now. It’s the longest anyone has lasted.
I shook my head and fidgeted my fingers in response.
She let out a soft sigh and pushed her notepad to the side. Leaning forward, she asked me again, “How was your week?”
I refused to answer. She didn’t care about my response. She was only being paid to care. Like a fake friend. She’s a liar and so was every other one before her.
“Samael, you have to be honest with me. Did you have any urges? An attack-”
“No. No, stop it. I don’t want to talk to you.” I covered my head and rocked back and forth. When I was four, my doctor told me that rocking back and forth would comfort me. He’s the only one that was honest and didn’t treat me any differently.
Mrs. Doxon stood up and sat in the padded chair placed symmetrical to mine. Besides her messy and unorganized style, she has an eye for interior design.
“Samael, tell me what you’re feeling right now.”
“B-bad.”
“Why?”
“He came back.”
“The Devil man?”
I never knew silence could be so loud. The Devil man was always following me around. He always was perched in my ear and told me to do bad things.
“What did he tell you?”
I shook my head again. “He didn’t say anything. He just watched me in my room.”
Mrs. Doxon placed her hand on my back and rubbed it in slow circles.
“I’ve tried using a night light but…he’s still there. I saw him for three nights in a row. He was holding a knife and a weird looking stuffed bunny. There was blood on the bunny. The stuffing was falling out. He had the same long claws like wolverine and he was smiling.”
Tears started running down my face. I haven’t been able to sleep right and my mother just says I need to grow up. I can’t grow up if he’s still haunting me.
“Samael, have you been taking your medication? I know you don’t like them but they helped you sleep right? You weren’t able to see the Devil man then.”
“No. No. I hate those. They make me nauseous.”
“But it helps.”
How dare she Samael. She only wants to drug you up.
I stood up and walked around the room. Mrs. Doxon was suffocating my space and I didn’t like her touching me.
“No. No. Pills are. Gross. Gross. Throw up…”
“Samael, it’s okay you don’t have to take them. Just come sit back down and we can practice your breathing exercises.” She came over to me and put her hands on my shoulders.
She doesn’t care for you. Remember she’s a liar.
“NO! Stop touching me.” I pushed her up against the bookcase and pulled her hair as tight as I could.
“Let me go Samael!”
“I don’t like the pills. DON’T GIVE ME THE PILLS!”
She cried and yanked at my hand in her hair. “Samael stop it. I said you didn’t have to take them! Samael please!”
You won’t be able to get rid of me. No one can. Not the pills and not her.
My vision went blurry and a peaking red enveloped the room. The walls warped to show the Devil man standing over Mrs. Doxon. She had a knife in her stomach and he kept dragging it all the way to her feet.
You are stuck with me.
“No! Stop it! She didn’t do anything! Stop it please!” His smile remained on his face and his eyes were glowing red. The crimson blood draining from Mrs. Doxon flooded the room. The taste of iron became known and the Devil man was nowhere to be seen.
I shut my eyes as tight as I could but Mrs. Doxon’s dead corpse was still stuck in my memory.
“It’s just a dream. It’s just a dream. Twinkle, twinkle little star. How I wonder what you are-”
“Samael!” A paramedic shook me aggressively and called out to his coworkers. I think I had another attack. I felt stick sweat clinging to my clothes and the scratchy carpet on my arms.
“I’m-I’m sorry. Mrs. Doxon. He wanted me to kill her. He wants her dead. I didn’t do anything this time. He stabbed her, not me.”
“Samael, she’ll be okay. It was just a dream.” The man responded.
“No. No. It wasn’t. I was real. He wants me to kill her.”
The sound of the siren pierced my achy ears and the questions coming from the medics didn’t help.
“Samael, can you tell me how old you are? What day is it? Do you remember what happened?”
I haven’t seen Mrs. Doxon since then. I overheard her crying while I was being placed on the stretcher. She said she didn’t want to work with me anymore. That I was a ‘threat’ to her. Maybe I should’ve killed her. I should’ve listened to him. He was right. She was a liar and didn’t care about me.
Next time, love. Next time listen to your father.
