The Spider Tattoo

Chapter 13

Again I found myself sitting in the therapist's, inside on one of the last warm, sunny days of the year, answering numerous questions that seemed to have no purpose.

"How was your day?" The therapist said, smiling, a fake smile plastered into her face.

You'd think after a while they'd at least try to make their smiles seem at least a tiny bit realistic, but no. It was always the same.

"Good, thanks," I said, sitting down on one of the chairs.

"Have you been feeling any better around spiders lately, or is it getting worse?"

I thought for a moment. "I feel like it might be getting a little bit better. I'm not sure, though."

The therapist stretched her mouth wider into an even bigger smile. "That's good, that's good," she said, scribbling notes down on a small notebook.

"Now, I think I have something that might help you a little bit," said the therapist. "If we can figure out what causes your fear of spiders, maybe we can eliminate the source and overcome your fear. Do you have any ideas?"

I hesitated for a millisecond, wondering if she'd ever believe the truth. Remembering the doctor's response when I told him the story, I just shook my head.

"No? Really? There has to be something," the therapist said. "You can't just be scared for no reason."

"No," I said firmly. There was a small pause.

I noticed the room had gotten much warmer in the past few minutes, and wanted to just leave the room and go outdoors. The therapist seemed to notice the change in temperature, too. Taking off her jacket, she began to ask another series of semi-meaningless questions.

"How has your life been at home?" The therapist asked.

"Fine," I said, distracted by the heat. I just wanted this session to be over.

"Hey, can we open a window?" I asked.

"Yeah, I think we need some more air circulating in here," the therapist said as I slowly slid the window halfway open.

Almost as if on cue, the sound of feet crunching on grass came around the corner of the building. It was Caden.

"Hey, Caden!" I said, smiling.

The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile, but they instantly fell.

The therapist stood up as soon as she saw Caden, eyes firey.

"Zoë, run!" Caden yelled as he ran around to the front of the building. My heart leapt into my throat as I sprinted with my crutches through the open doorway.

I ran through the hallway, hearing the thudding of the therapist's feet coming closer and closer. I knew I couldn't make it very far past the front doors in my injured condition. Frantically looking for anything I could do, I grabbed the handle to the door and pushed.

I slammed the door behind me as hard as I could.

To my surprise, the door sprung open. I looked backwards in horror.

The therapist was clutching her bloody fingers, wailing, as she crumpled to the ground. I suddenly knew why Caden had told me to run.

A black leg extended out from behind her tank top, tattooed on her skin.

A wave of information hit me hard. I felt like I was being pushed back. I put my head in my hands, trying to process everything that had just happened. My broken ankle tingled.

"Zoë, we have to go!" I heard Caden shout from the other side of the parking lot.

I snapped out of it and sprinted as fast as I could with crutches down the road and eventually into the forest, following Caden the whole way.

As I was running, I couldn't help but think of what I had realized earlier.

The therapist was the woman who had tried to kill me a few days ago. Every time she's asked me one of those seemingly pointless questions about my life, she was planning the murder. I don't know why she hadn't killed me back then - maybe because she thought I was dead when I was really unconscious - but there was something else, something far more disturbing to think about.

When I saw her tattoo, something clicked and information began to slide into place. When I thought back on the memories of that night, I could see her face. It was added seamlessly to my memories.

So was the face of the man who killed my mother, and I hated him with indescribable rage.