Wretched Power | 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘 (BOOK ONE)

| CHAPTER EIGHT |

"Miss Paradis... if there was no plane crash, how did your father die?" Dr Melvin had asked the same question to Lana fifteen times during this session. He was a counsellor her brothers had paid for so she could 'heal'.  She didn't know where her brothers found the time to employ a counsellor yet claimed over the telephone that they had no time to send letters or have a conversation for longer than five minutes. 

     Lana tore her eyes away from the window but placed them on another window, peering outside and at the rain pouring down against the glass. She watched as Dr Hager frolicked his arms around, distinct screams leaving his lips, but she couldn't see who he was shouting at, or what he was shouting at. He looked psychotic.  

     "What is Dr Hager doing?" She questioned as she watched him jump up and down, waving his arms the opposite way his body was going. She sounded genuinely concerned about Dr Hager's well-being.  

     "Would you answer my question, please?" Lana reminded herself of the question and swallowed a small lump. "If there was no plane crash then how did your father die?"

     She blinked and looked at Dr Melvin. "By then the illness had come back." 

     "I see."

     "No, you don't," Lana spoke quietly, looking back down at the notebook in her lap, scribbling between the lines. 

     "Indulge me, then. Explain it to me."

     "Explain what?" Lana began tapping her wrist on the hard armrest of the chair she was sitting on. "Explain to a doctor that people get sick?" 

     The rain began pouring down harder and the ticking of the clock became louder. 

     "Explain that time isn't always on my side and that I can't control it?" She clicked her neck as she listened to Dr Malvin's heavy breathing. 

     "Why can't you control it? Why can't you control time?" 

     "Because it's time. It's a man-made conspiracy." She looked back out of the window. "I can't run late to anything or it stresses me out. I have to be on a strict schedule all the time. I need to be able to see the time all the time. I cry when something drastic happens to change my time." She paused. "Time isn't real."  

     "How do you feel right now?" 

     "I... don't know. I don't know what I'm feeling." She watched as the raindrops slid down the glass of the window and blurred her vision. 

     "You need a rest." Dr Melvin nodded. 

     "I'll take a nap. Take the weekend off to reset. I'll visit a library outside of Welton or go to the bakery and volunteer somewhere... something. I'll put myself out there." 

     Lana watched Dr Melvin write something down on his notepad. She had seen him flip several pages over, but she wasn't lucky enough to catch some of the writing. His handwriting wasn't the best. It was exactly what you would expect from a doctor. Scruffy, barely any form of punctuation or curved letters. 

"Miss Paradis!"

     She pulled her head up off the small stack of books on her desk and looked at Mr McAllister. Everyone was staring at her. Some eyes were narrowed, others were wide, and some were concerned, but most people were trying not to laugh at her. 

     "Are you listening?" 

     She fought back the urge to say; obviously not if I'm sleeping, but she knew that it would only end in a demerit and a meeting with Nolan. She ran her hand through her hair, pulled on her thin frame circular reading glasses and looked down at the textbook.