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Ernst Ludwig Kirchner (1910 - 1920) ___
IT WAS 15 minutes past the time of the appointment. The clock on the wall continued insistently, constantly bothering, reminding him of the time.
He had walked in circles, bothered, unquiet, irritated, wondering about the possibility of what could have happened.
It was the uncertainty that annoyed him, that stuck on his head like a poison. The toxic poison of her image in his brain that refused to leave.
Just 15 minutes, and yet torturous, long ones. He had never disturbed himself with time so much as now.
Traffic, could've been traffic. Or maybe oversleeping. Or someone, yes, someone approached her at the street, it would be likely for her to stop and keep up with a conversation, loosing track of time.
No, she was pontual. She was responsible. Couldn't have been it. She would've informed, avoided, rushed instead.
Not delayed 15 minutes of agony.
The situation was as worse as Freddie Lounds' new article about the Chesapeak Ripper informing the theory of Dr.Gideon to be the blamed one. It was simply irritating.
Held the phone in his hands, couldn't help himself. Stared at the screen for solid 10 seconds, thinking if it would be wise to call her. But something inside him screamed, ignoring any doubts.
Once it started to ring, each sound of waiting turned into an anxious heartbeat. What was taking her so long?
The constant sound of the line stopped. She picked up. He stopped breathing.
"Hello?" A masculine voice asked at the other side of the line.
He furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if the number he dialed was correct. "Hello, is this Alice Mallory's phone number?"
"Who is it?" The voice asked sharply. Didn't seem pleased to hear him.
"I could ask you the same question. Is this from Alice Mallory's home?" He didn't introduce himself.
"Why do you want to know about my sister?" The voice finally revealed itself with an offended tone.
"You're Alice's brother, Colin, isn't it?" He suddenly felt a bit more relieved. Another man picking up her phone felt just...wrong to him. "It's Hannibal Lecter, h-"
"Her therapist. Yeah, she told me. Look, Alice's not going today." He talked back.
"Is something wrong? Is she alright?" The lack of response from that teenager was annoying him.
"My sister's fine, just isn't going to the session. Don't you have other patients to check?" He sourly replied "have a good day, doctor."
"Wait. Hello? Hello?" He stared at the phone in his hands, the beeping sound of the hung up call started. The boy had just turned off the phone while he wss speaking. that nuisance. How was it possible that Alice was related to him?
