Chapter Three: Dr. Phil

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One Bird with Two Stones

When people tell you that the world goes round and not straight like a billboard, you’re usually too young to tell them that they’re wrong. The only way you could get around this fact and start believing that the world is straight is by growing up. But the one thing you can’t do when you’re grown up, is make other people believe that.

‘That’s not necessarily true, Dr. Phil.’

‘It is in her best interests, Mr. Eric Carlaa.’ The man in the white coat, Dr. Phil, rested his elbow on his wooden desk and lowered his head slightly. ‘It’s not a medical condition Mr. Carlaa. And I don’t think it’s treatable. Of course, there are mild cases when the patient does something in his or her sleep that she or he can’t remember, but Mr. Carlaa, this is not one of those cases.’ He kept his gaze focused on the father. He wasn’t a man of calm and knew he would alter his decision if he looked at the girl.

‘I’m sorry Doctor. But this is not what I want for my daughter.’

‘Would you rather she continued passing into these dream like states?’

‘No, I wouldn’t.’

The doctor could see that the father was at a crossroad. He didn’t want his daughter to be labelled. But at the same time, he was afraid of what might happen if she wasn’t labelled. Phil knew this emotion like the back of his hand and, as he usually did, he took advantage of it.

‘Mr. Carlaa, I don’t want you to make any decisions without consulting your wife first. This is a matter that both parents need to take and look at. How about we schedule an appointment for next week so you can bring the child’s mother as well?’ He was already writing out a prescription on a piece of paper.

‘My wife is dead.’ Eric said in a low voice. Phil stopped writing and looked up sympathetically. ‘She died last week. And my daughter needs something to stop this...this...’

Phil could see the strain it was taking for Eric Carlaa not to show his emotions as Eric looked down at his daughter in her tiny chair. He caught hold of Eric’s hand on the table and squeezed it gently. 6 years old. Only six! Was this supposed to be how she grew up? thought Eric painfully.

‘Your daughter’s not going to a mental hospital, Mr. Carlaa.’ He said as he watched him. ‘Not under my watch.’ He hesitated, not sure how Eric would take the information. ‘If you would deem it appropriate, I would like to conduct a… MRI scan. See if there’s any physical damage or abnormalities. Is that alright?’ he asked. Not that he needed his permission. Phil would have come up with some other excuse if he had refused. Something, anything, to get that girl where he wanted.

Eric looked up and pursed his lips. ‘Yes, I think so. It won’t damage her brain right?’ he asked him.

Phil shook his head, hiding his evil thoughts. Soon, he said to himself. I’ll get that bitch.. ‘No, not at all. Just a check-up. And Eric?’ a sudden thought came to his head. ‘I’m going to take care of all the costs. I know you’re short for money and all… I just don’t like to see a friend go down like this.’

His eyes softened as they watched Eric thank him in gratitude and walk out of the door, his daughter in his hand. She suddenly turned back and waved to Phil, then walked out of the door.

Phil gritted his teeth through his smile and sat down, taking up a random file and slamming it back on his desk in anger. Eric’s wife had died. It took Eric this long to tell him that, and only when he had prompted that both of them should come in next week.

He picked up his pencil and began to write out some prescriptions from the computer. It was something he did to calm himself. Something he seemed to do quite often since his son died. Anger surged in him.

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⏰ Last updated: Apr 28, 2013 ⏰

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