Sallos (A Demon Romance)

Chapter 2

The metronome ticked back and forth as Dr. Richard stared at me. His receding hairline was noticeably worse than last time I had seen him. He wore a thick maroon cardigan with a jean colored undershirt that was buttoned up to his neck.

He always sat in his cushioned chair with his face resting on his hand. His glasses hung down on the bridge of his nose.

"How's the nightmares?" his voice was boring and bleak.

"It's uh...they're better" I replied, looking around his dull room.

"Your father tells me the opposite" he stated "he says that he wakes up to you screaming and that you've been sweating through two bed sheets every night"

I didn't respond. Instead, I found myself tracing over the black numbers of the clock that hung directly behind his chair.

"Is it the same dreams?" he asked, not really gaining my attention.

"I don't know, I guess" I shrugged.

I could hear that the metronome and clock were ticking at different times. It bothered every ounce of my being and I didn't know how he was simply ignoring it.

"Is it still in them?" he asked.

My eyes snapped back down towards him. I felt my heart pick up it's pace as I began twirling a thread from the couch beneath me.

"Yes" I confessed.

"And you still can't see it's face?" he began writing down on his notepad.

"No, it's like it's face is blurred but everything else I can see" I explained as he jotted down more and more notes.

"Mhm...and describe the thing to me" he said.

I thought about it for a second. Imagining what the creature in my harrowing dreams looks like.

"It has long, black fingers with claws on the ends. It's body is lanky and tall..." I described, feeling a sense of dread wash over me.

Dr. Richard nodded, continuing looking down at his notes. I stared at him as he wrote, scribbling words like a mad man.

"And do you ever think about just looking at it...?" he suddenly stopped writing to stare straight at me with an odd look in his face.

"What..." I stammered out.

"I mean you see it all the time but are you really looking at it?" he seemed so persuasive like he needed me to agree with me.

"You never fucking really look at it, do you?" he scoffed to himself, gripping his pen in his hand "you go there everyday but you fucking don't look at it! you need to look at it!" he was yelling by this point.

His hand squeezed so hard on the pen that it snapped. His face was turning red as his anger began to seethe over. I felt tears brim my eyes as I felt like I was drowning.

I could feel a burning sensation wrapping around my throat, just where the things hand had been. The fear was so strong that I couldn't move in my seat. My breathing became rapid. I felt like I was going to pass out.

"Miss Sinclair?" a voice said.

"Miss Sinclair...?" it repeated.

My eyes snapped up to see Dr. Richard staring at me seemingly confused. The pen was back together and gently rested in his hand. My mouth fell agape staring at the man who was back to his bored and calm self.

"What..." I breathlessly whispered.

"Is everything okay..?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed, "are you seeing something now?"