Destiny Calls

Chapter One

Blood... Screaming... Crashing...

"It's all your fault. Your friends wouldn't be dead today if it weren't for you. You're nothing compared to any of them; just some pathetic nobody..."

Grayson... Laura... Jax... Michael...

"It's all your fault. All your fault, all your fault, all your fau-"

"Ms. Patterson? Are you alright?"

The soft tick-rocking sounds of the big grandfather clock slowly brought me back to my senses, my eyes blinking and now focusing themselves back onto Doctor Rex - my therapist for the last five years. Memories of there pale, cold, lifeless faces flashed through my mind... They would never leave me alone. I try every day to convince myself that it wasn't my fault, that it couldn't have been - yet I, just can't think that way. No matter what I tell myself, no matter how much I want to believe it's not true...

It really is my fault.

Coughing a little, I shake my head to get rid of the fuzzy feeling in my brain. One glance at the clock told me that I had been dozed off for about twenty minutes... "Uh, yeah... I'm just thinking."

"About?"

My hands clamp onto my chair arms, clutching so tightly that my knuckles started going white. Breath hitched, watery eyes, scrambled brain... I almost couldn't find the right words to say.

"It's the same thing that I have been thinking about for years, Rex... And I'm not really sure I want to talk about it..."

He sighed, and I watched intently as he reached up to slip his thick wired glasses from his ears; his eyes were a dull brown, aged with the years like the rest of him. His hair was completely grey, curly with a big bald spot on top. Wrinkles were etched into his very pale skin; so pale that you could easily pick out all the blue veins crawling from the top of his black shirt, traveling up towards his ears. A terrible, patchy five o'clock shadow was starting to form, and I watched in slight disgust as his very chapped lips slowly latched onto his coffee mug, annoyingly slurping at whatever beverage was in it.

"Ms. Patterson... You do realize that therapy is a place where you go to counsel with somebody; vent, if you must. In here, you're not obligated to say what you're feeling, but it is highly recommended; especially when you pay a hundred dollars for every meeting."

"I-I know, it's just... I don't know. I really just don't want to talk about it-"

"Then why do you come here? Forcing yourself to go to therapy every single week when you never want to talk about anything."

My eyebrows furrowed at the sudden mood change in his voice, a judgmental gaze boring straight into my soul. Whatever he was doing, it made me feel so unsafe; insecure, lonely, scared, helpless. Moving awkwardly in my seat, I scoot as far back as I could - he only leaned more foreword, his elbows propped up on his knees as he stared at me with unreadable eyes.

"Why would you even care? It's not like you're actually doing anything... I'm paying you to just sit and listen with me. Maybe I come just because I know somebody will listen... No matter his opinions on the matter," huffing in annoyance, I lean back even more as he scoots his chair even closer until our faces were barely even a foot apart. So many red flags were flashing in the back of my mind, but the closer he got, the colder and more frozen I became.

A creepy, cynical grin appearing on his face before finally, he pulls back, jotting stuff down on a notepad. "Ms. Patterson... I suggest taking a couple days off of work. Take the time to just get to know the real you, and try and find some peace by the time we meet next Wednesday."

Handing me a slip of paper, I only nod while standing up. He does the same, and only now do I realize how short Rex actually is; me being 5'1" is it's own thing, but from being hunched over, he was barely an inch taller than me.

"Go home, and relax. Get your life together, and come by next week with a better attitude."

From his odd mood and from snapping at me all the time, I doubted the fact I would ever come back. Going to the gym every day was making me feel more better about myself and is a way better way of cope than this guy; I no longer felt safe with any information that I shared, and I am just glad the red flags were going off.

But because I'm a naturally kind and selfless person, I give a genuine smile, and nod. "Thank you, Rex... You're a good guy."

He only grunted before turning around, and gripping tightly onto the back of his chair. Usually when he used to do that, I just thought it was from old age, but right now at this moment... He seemed as if he were pissed, and was trying to contain himself from doing something. With a small frown on my face, I quickly make my way out of the office and towards my car from the parking spot.

I fuss around with my keys, trying to find the one that actually unlocked the doors, but groan when I suddenly drop them. Squatting down, I finally find the right one before standing straight up.

My eyes widen when I looked up, to see multiple reflections in my car window.

But before I could whip around or scream, a rough hand clutched tightly at my hair, before slamming my head against the window.

Pain erupted through my face, and the last thing I heard was the glass shattering, and my limp body falling to the ground.

My vision slowly turned black.

***

Written: March 7, 2017

Edited: N/A

Word Count: 994