As it swung again, his hair sailed into the air. It was incredibly fast and pounding. He screamed, but his father didn't hear him; he wanted to get off this ghastly swing, but he couldn't; he was only a kid. It flung him so far. His head was the first thing to strike the ground, salty tears streaming down his crimson eyes as a result of the impact.
“How are you doing today, Mr. Aamon?” With a quiet, soft voice, his psychotherapist said. He liked her. She was a little old, yet pulchritudinous.
“I'm fine, Mrs. Agatha; thank you for your concern.” He nodded, with a quizzical smile and a deep stare.
“Do you see things the same way you used to?”
He paused for a moment. "...No"
“How did your first day back at home go?”
“It's lovely to be back"
“It's great to see you smiling again too; I've missed your grin"
“Who were those people from yesterday?”
“They were your pals, and they came to celebrate your return to your former self.”
“What do you mean?” His mood quickly altered.
“I didn't mean that...; they wanted to congratulate you on regaining
your health."
“What was the reason for their departure?”
"You told them to,"
He powerfully closed his eyes and endeavored to recall the events of the day.
“... anyway, I want you to go now; leave; I'd like to be alone."
“Oh! I see"
“Are you all right?”
“Can you just tell everyone to stay away from me? But not in a terrible manner... I simply want to be alone,"
“I can make it happen; I just want to see you happy again.”
“Thank you, although I have one more thing to ask for; no calls, no interruptions; I need to be alone before reconnecting with the rest of the world.”
“You fought hard to get to this point, and you really deserve to be alone for a while.”
YOU ARE READING
The Cliff
HorrorHave you ever been abducted by your mind... by the evil that dwells inside it? ... If we define normal as sane, Aamon was never been a normal man. He had suffered a tremendous trauma from a young age, which led to an adolescence marked by lunacy and...
