Of all the emotional turmoil John went through his suffering was only beginning. John has repressed memories even more traumatic than the ones he remembers. A mysterious man forcibly brought them back leaving John in a abyss of despair while sinking...
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Imagine him in UnOrdinary art form
The end of the school day could not have come fast enough. As soon as the last bell of the day had rung, Vaughn had immediately stood up from his office chair, locked up his office, and had gotten into his car in a matter of what seemed like seconds. He needed to check out this Peaceful Anarchy place as soon as possible.
After Vaughn quickly stopped back at home to check up on John, he had gotten back in his car to drive the rest of the way to his destination. The man sighed as he entered the building. John was still the same as he had been all week.
He still hadn't touched the sandwich on his nightstand, and he was still laying in the same position he always was on the guest room bed. The poor kid's eyes were still as lifeless as ever, as if John had only seen the worst the world had to offer, and Vaughn guessed he did. No kid should have that type of hopeless look in their eyes.
The teal-haired man clenched his fists together as he looked around the lobby for a certain man that would fit the description Adira had given him the day before.
"Excuse me, sir. Can I help you?" A female receptionist with brick red hair and equally as red eyes called out to him, but Vaughn ignored her in favor of staring at a man leaning against a wall in the corner of the lobby who was staring right back at him.
Vaughn narrowed his eyes at the man as he took in his appearance. White shoulder length hair, sky blue eyes, and a white beard similar to his own. This had to be him.
"You!" Vaughn called out approaching him. "Me?" The man put a hand to his chest in fake bewilderment and looked around himself as if this man approaching him couldn't possibly be talking to him. "Yes you." Vaughn confirmed, his expression cold as he glared at the supposed psychologist he was now standing in front of. He looked to be in his late thirties. "Let's talk." Vaughn demanded, his tone icy. The fact that this man most likely horribly traumatized one of his students made him furious, but he continued to keep his cool.
"Oh? Do you have a session booked with me?" A cunning smile made itself present on the man's face and Vaughn found himself already disliking him.
"No, I don't want a session I want-...on second thought, give me one right now." "As you wish." That stupid smile never left the white-haired man's face as he turned and started leading Vaughn towards a vacant room. Vaughn was a little frustrated that he hadn't seemed to intimidate this man at all.
The two males walked in silence as Vaughn briskly followed the shorter mystery man in front of him. Soon enough, the white-haired man stopped in front of a white door, twisted the golden doorknob, and walked inside with Vaughn following after him.
Vaughn watched as the other male pulled up a chair and offered Vaughn to do the same. "I prefer to stand." Vaughn said as he crossed his arms.
"Suit yourself." The man shrugged while using his hand to brush his white hair out of his face. "Who are you?" Vaughn asked, or more demanded his name as he stared intently down at the man sitting in front of him.
