"My friend, I kind of need to know where we going?" inquired the cabbie, his keen brown eyes darting back and forth between the rearview mirror and the chaotic London traffic stretching out ahead at the ungodly hour of nine.
Connor's eruption of emotions appears to be subsiding, gradually tapering off like a majestic symphony reaching its final end. His breaths regain it's composure, harmoniously aligning with the rhythm of his thoughts as he takes a moment to contemplate his inner workings.
Finally, out of the silence Connor words break through. His mind made up and set on a direction that would result in a form of help.
"On Park Street, 31st," Connor utters in a self-importantly composed manner.
"No worries, sir," the taxi driver responds with a temporary calmness.
Connor observes the taxi driver's gaze in the rearview mirror before refocusing on the left hand side car window. Back tracking the events that had lead him into this precise predicament.
With a fumbling hand, Connor rummages through his pockets until he finds exactly what he's looking for. Holding his phone, trembling slightly, Connor appears puzzled as he stares at the blank screen. However, his fingers swiftly spring into action, locating Mary's office number.
As Connor prepares himself for the forthcoming conversation, the dial tone resonates in the cab's backseat.
"Sir, please tell me you are walking through the doors as we speak" Mary interjects without any delay.
After taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Connor finally releases his words, "I truly wish that were the case, Mary, but I need to see Dr. Patel, and I'm on the way to his office."
"But, Sir,"
"Mary... I caught a glimpse of her. Those eyes, piercing into the depths of my soul. After years of deliberately evading any reminders of her existence, there she stood, behind the glass."
Connor's voice trembled with each word, his despair becoming more noticeable with every syllable uttered.
"Who exactly are you talking about?"
"Lilly, Lilly Bennett." states Connor.
At the mere mention of that single name, Mary's mind swiftly pieced together the puzzle, as if each letter had a close relation towards a profound significance.
It was a name that held an overweighted power, capable of giving an immense wave of joy within her employer's eyes. However, in that very same moment, Mary witnessed the name dissipate and vanish, taking with it every trace of sanity from Connor's being. It had been an eternity since she had last heard him speak that name, and yet, an inexplicable bond seemed to connect her to the raw emotions that accompanied that very name.
"Oh, shit balls," Mary exclaimed, caught off guard by the weight and significance of her own words, her realization unfolding in an instant.
Hastily, she adjusted her demeanor, her voice filled with contrition as she apologized, "My sincere apologies for the sudden outburst, sir. Please forgive me."
Noticing the absence of any immediate response from Connor, Mary pressed on, her voice brimming with a sense of duty and responsibility, "Rest assured, I shall take charge of all matters here until you arrive. And, sir, if there is anything at all that I can do to assist you..."
Connor, fully aware of Mary's genuine concern, captured the sentiment in her words, "Thank you, Mary. You are already doing the best I could hope for."
You could hear Mary's smile through the phone speakers and with that Connor ends the call.
YOU ARE READING
The Waiting Room
Teen FictionConnor Mason goes through his typical Monday, but from the very beginning, there's a strange feeling to this particular day. With anxiety on his back and trying to evade his troubles, he stumbles upon a waiting room where, unexpectedly, the very pr...
