:Ticci Toby:{A Rewrite}

30

"Hello, I'm Dr. Oliver. I am so very glad to see you today." The woman's voice was sweet like cherries. She hadn't seen a single bad day in her life it seemed. Crosses and other inspirational quotes littered the walls. Hers and Toby's vibes were like polar opposites. That was probably what threw him off. He could've sworn it was Lyra that walked into the room when he first saw the therapist.

"May I ask a few questions to start us off?"

Toby stayed verbally quiet, giving her a nod in response.
Dr. Oliver Sat her clipboard down and crossed her legs elegantly. Her pen had a pom pom on the end of it.
"How old are you, Toby?"

"Seventeen.." Toby responded quietly, his few free fingers tapping the wood on the arms of the chair. It was obvious he was nervous.

"When is your birthday?"

"A-April 28th, 1980.."

"And your full name?"

He hesitated, as if he could barely fully remember.
"Tobias Erin Rogers"

"Great, now do you have any close family? Who do you live with?"

Toby paused for a moment before briefly responding, a crack to his voice. "My mom, m-my dad, and.." He held back a lump in his throat, swallowing it back.
"m-my sister.."

Silence flooded the room, all that could be heard were the quiet scribbles the Doctor made onto her clipboard.

"I heard about Lyra, I am very sorry, dear" Her tone sounded genuine.  "Just know you can talk to me."

Toby shook his head. "No, no if i did, you'd think i'm crazy-" He bit his tongue.

"I would never, if i may ask, how is school? Are you doing well at home? Anything you'd like me to know?"

Toby faced away, his eyebrows narrow. He didn't want to talk, he really didn't. "I'm homeschooled, h-h-have been for two years, and I'm d-doing just fine at home." His tone was sharp, uninviting even.

The woman sighed. "Toby, i need you to be open to me about these things, I'm only here to help you-" She was cut off—

"You really think you can help me?" His voice shook out, his eyebrows sliding into a worried look.

"Well of course, that is my job after all, I help and care for all of my patients, now."
She flipped through her clipboard, her face coming to a concerned expression. "So you used to burn things? Have an interest in fire? That's interesting. So can you tell me how that makes you feel? Is it a coping mechanism?"

How did she know that? His body stiffened, his eyes glued onto the dark blue carpet.

Dr. Oliver laughed quietly, assuming she was correct. "I'm sure we need to find more healthier coping ideas, maybe perhaps writing? Have you tried that? What about drawing? Your mom told me you like to scribble symbols and stick people, is that so?"

Toby gritted his teeth in embarrassment. "It's not just stick people, it's…a person."

"Well stick people can be considered persons, is there one you draw particularly often?"

"stop." Toby demanded, not wanting to bring that up.

The blonde flinched to his sudden demand, nodding and quickly jotting down a few more things into her clipboard. "Well why don't you tell me something then, what's on your mind?"

Toby was quiet, but if he was to be honest…

"Lyra.."

The woman's eyes softened, a sad sigh leaving her body. "Okay…well…what do you remember of the crash?"

The second she asked, Toby's mind sped down memory lane. The blurred lights, the loud crashing sounds, glass shattering. The sight of Lyra's impaled, limp body in the driver's seat. It haunted him.
He couldn't answer the question, instead he held his head low, face hidden between his bangs and the bridge of his hat. He didn't want to answer, he didn't want to.

His breathing started to get heavy, his eyes fluttering to keep himself upright. He was trying not to have a panic attack.

"Toby?" Her voice was blurred. He felt more than one presence here. Finally his eyes shot up, capturing the sight of the featureless being lingering outside the window. It was so close.

"It's here! It's here! how did it find me!" Toby grabbed his head, falling from the chair and onto the floor in a fetal position.

Toby was freaking out, his side where the cuts were began to actually hurt? It physically hurt, he's never felt pain before in his life, why was this carved symbol hurting him like it would a normal person? He wasn't supposed to feel this. He wasn't supposed to feel this!

"Make it stop!" Toby screamed out. The blonde woman stood up quickly, unsure of what to do, she just held her clipboard tightly to her chest and yelled his name to see if that would work.

It took three other doctors to finally calm Toby down, giving him water and wiping the blood that dripped down his nose and chin. They all just assumed he hit his head.

He saw it, it hurt, he felt it, he sensed it.

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