"All I'm doing is rearranging the curtains in the insane asylum."
- Wes Craven
TW!! Mentions of disturbing and uncomfortable shit
Dont read if not comfortable :)
. . .
4/1/77
10:52 A.M
First Therapy Session with Dr. Sands
The atmosphere here is suffocating. The walls are utterly blinding and the air smells like an old nursing home, in my opinion that is.
My new therapist isn't here yet, Loomis put me in a random psychologist's office for my visit. She isnt late for our appointment, we are just painfully early.
On the walls hung random uplifting posters, like someone vomited encouraging quotes all over the place.
Even that "Hang In There" poster was hung up on the office's yellow wallpaper.
One big black chair was faced towards me, I was sitting down on one of the weird long couches.
A wooden coffee table seperated the pieces of furniture, both a tissue box and a telephone was planted on it.
"She should be here any moment, (Y/N). Your eyes have wondered to those posters more than 3 times." Sam randomly pointed that out with a dry chuckle. He was standing next to the door, leaning against the wall.
I glanced up at him with a smug smirk.
"Are ya stalking my every movement now Loo?"
His face turned into a surprised form, both of his eyebrows raising jokingly.
"Loo?"
My smirk turned into a full grin, it's been a little bit since i've actually talked to my doctor. Ever since Michael has become the main suspect in my life, everybody else has warded off.
"That's all you got out of that?? The stalking bit just ran right over your head." Chuckling, I gestured my hand to go flying over my head, as if i was calling him slow.
Which I was.
"No no I'm used to your humor, but the nickname is new."
His confused expression turned into a sarcastic smile.
"Well, your new nickname is a term for the bathroom."
I flashed my canines at him as the door next to him opened and a small petite old woman walked through it.
My face fixed back to its original state the moment she did, it was as if I mastered playing poker.
Sam's face did the same as he returned to his professional state, a slight nod was exchanged between the two superiors.
With that, and without a goodbye towards me, he briskly walked out the door and out of my line of vision.
The moment he left my new therapist took off a bag she wore around her arm and set it down on the big velvet chair. She took out a couple of candles from the leather accessory before planting them on the coffee table.
"God it is blinding in here, and what is up with all these posters?"
Dr. Sands, if I remembered her name correctly, grimaced and put a hand up to shield her eyes.
"I'm so glad this isn't my office." I could hear the smile in her voice as the lights shut off.
In the darkness I could hear her shuffle in her bag for something before the scratching of a match reached my ears. How does she even have the authorization to have matches around me??
The flame lit up suddenly, burned widely for a second, before calming down. She used this flame on both of the candles. Her silhouette and the rest of the room lit up in a matter of a blink. The atmosphere switched from an uncomfortable status to a more bearable one.
Rummaging in her bag again, she pulled out a blocky looking recorder and a notepad. Afterwards she placed the bag, recorder, and notepad down on the coffee table as she got comfortable.
"Is it okay if I record the session? The tape will only be for helping your case."
She had a friendly smile settled on her face while talking to me.
"Uhh.. sure?"
I shrugged while rubbing the back of my neck. She smiled as her finger pressed down on the record button with a loud click.
. . .
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𝗣𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘁 #𝟴𝟰𝟮 // Michael Myers x Fem! Reader
Fanfiction(Y/N) just got diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder and due to it the law forces her to go into a hospital. On the upsetting journey of trying to fight her case in court, she has to be held in Smith's Grove. During this she bumps into a man...
