Gateway to hell.

Chapter 8.

Kendall

I sat in the waiting room of the psychiatrists office and for the millionth time glanced at my mother's stony face. Nothing changed, I sighed. She still refused to look at me, her lips pursed into a tight line. Her and dad came home to find me cradling the body of my slain cat, covered in blood, the living room also covered in blood. The rust and salt smell of it so thick in the air, my mother gagged, and promply vomited over my dad. So yeah that was fun, I thought rolling my eye's. Gabby and Neve Stood protesting that they found me with the cat, and the bloody knife at my feet! I was still hysterical, and screamed at Gabby to get the fuck out my house, and even though she had a LOT of blood over her, she claimed it was from trying to get the cat off me to see if it was possible to save the poor thing. Really? It's throat was cut with such force, it's head was hanging on by a flap of skin!!

I guessed from the hushed whispering from the kitchen, after Neve had lead my poor parents from the scene, while I sobbed over my poor dead cat. That Neve had been telling them I had been acting strangely previously, and that bitch Gabby hammed up the choking sobs at the awful scene she claimed to have discovered me in. Well it hardly took much, my parents already thought something was going on with me after the unfortunate almost knocking out of my dad the day before. So here I am...at a shrink's establishment! I feel so numb to be honest. I can't do this anymore, I will let the doc medicate the shit out of me, and never leave my room again. Morgan will make sure they don't get in...she promised!

I sighed a great shuddering breath at the memory. The smell of antiseptic was causing my already red eye's to burn. Behind her desk, the receptionist worked over a piece of juicy fruit like a wrestler, laying down a beat on his opponent.

I really feel like giving up, my poor friends, I know it's not them really, and whatever being from the depths of hell that crawled into them that day we did the ouija board, is doing all this , but I can't help them now. I just can't fight anymore!

I recrossed my legs, and flipped through the same womans world magazine for the tenth time. I needed a cigarette so bad, and if I didn't give my hands something to do, they would surely throttle the nurse, who was busy gossiping with her co worker, instead of doing something about the extended waiting time! I bounced my leg up and down, receiving the first acknowledgement from my mother, since we left the house. She gave me a 'stop that' wide eyed pointed stare at my vibrating leg, the type you get when you are 4 years old and misbehaving in public.

She picked up the clipboard, and single sheet of paper the receptionist had handed me to fill in when we arrived, and slammed it into my lap, holding the pen out into my face with the other hand, in an exaggerated gesture. Feeling all the more like a naughty child, I accepted the pen begrudgingly, and stared blankly at the questions I was required to fill out before seeing the doctor. I can't believe my own mother thinks I could do that to Mr Whiskers! My eye's blurred with tears, as I thought about him again.

Remembering the room had other patients waiting around, I quickly wiped my eye's with my sleeve, and sniffed away my tears. Trying to clear my vision and focus on the page.

" Ok what are my responses to the following questions....Do you find it difficult being around people? Agree, strongly agree, neither agree nor disagree, disagree, or disagree strongly? Hmm, OK? Do you find it difficult to relate to people, or understand those around you? Do you lack enjoyment in everyday activities? Do you think no one understands you? Do you prefer your own company? Do you wish to harm yourself or those around you? Do I --? Well that escalated quickly!"

Before I could finish with the intrusive interrogation, A demure looking man in chinos, a sweater vest, tie, and small round spectacles cleared his throat in front of us, causing my mother to jump up, with a idiotic grin on her face.

" Hello there, Mrs and Miss Conner I presume? Would you like to come with me? I'm doctor Mathias." He introduced himself with a half bow.

" Mrs Conner, maybe you should wait here, give me a chance to talk to Kendall alone? Maybe you can come it at the end?" He peered at her over his little round spectacles as he spoke. My mother tried to look gracious about it of course, but I don't think she was best pleased. She wanted some answers, a reason why I was acting the way I was, something she could understand. She nodded, with a brief smile, and sat down again , putting her handbag on her lap as a sort of barrier between herself and us. I wonder what the doctor made of that?

 He ushered me down a daunting looking corridor where I assumed the various rooms were. I followed behind him, staring at my shoes the whole time.

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I looked at the little bottle of antipsychotics in my hand, and shook a couple out. I swallowed them quickly before I changed my mind. My mother spent the whole car journey home, sobbing. Asking what she had done wrong as a parent for this to happen, and making me feel like I needed to be locked up. She actually asked the doctor if I shouldn't be in a hospital where they could make me her 'little girl again'. I just wanted everything to stop, so I told the psychiatrist exactly what had gone on! I suppose I half hoped that he would put me away somewhere, at least I would be safe from 'them' or the demon, or whatever was going on. I thought I had a handle on it at one point, now....I am way out of my depth, and I have no idea whether or not staying away from 'my friends' was going to keep me safe or not? The other day on the landing I thought this thing could get to me regardless, but maybe I just need medication? May-be, I can take these little white pills, and it will all go away?

I picked up my cigarettes and shook one out with trembling fingers. The house was quiet, my dad was 'golfing' apparently, Morgan was in school, and mom was downstairs 'baking'. Which more than likely meant downing a bottle of gin while pouring a cup of water into a ready mix of brownies, and whacking it in the oven. The phone blared from my bedside table, vibrating like an angry hornet, and my heart felt like it would stop from pure terror. Number withheld! Did Alex think I was that stupid, to fall for a trick like that? I picked it up, and threw it at the wall. The screen made a satisfying 'crack';, and I relaxed a little, I am so sick of Gabby, Wayne, Neve and Alex blowing up my phone, to tell me how crazy I am. I'm not even safe online, the I.M's pop up all over the place so my laptop is cold, and sat with a thin film of dust atop it's shiny plastic lid.

I looked over at my overflowing ashtray, ugh! I could wash it, or I could get another from the kitchen. I decided to opt for getting a new one from downstairs. AS I descended the staircase I heard my mother talking to someone. That's a little worrying, I thought to myself? I know for a fact the house is empty right now?

I slowly, walked closer to the voice of my mother chattering away. I slid along the hallway corridor, pressed up against the wall, enjoying the cold sensation of the stone underneath my palms, as I slunk along. I did not wish to burst into the kitchen without knowing who I was going to come face to face with, and so I hung back...

".....So the psychiatrist gave her some medication, he says it will make all the hallucinations stop. He thinks she has a personality disorder."

" That's terrible Mrs Conner, maybe now all this nonsense will stop?"

Alex!! Oh god, what is he doing here? I tiptoed toward the doorway, and peeked into the large kitchen. My mother was stood at the island in the center of the room, kneading dough furiously, and continuing talking to Alex. I couldn't hear what she was saying any longer....All I could see was Alex's grinning face, as he stared right into my eye's. He stood right behind my clueless mother, a huge butcher knife between his raised hands.