Possessed

Chapter 13: The Therapist

“She’s fine, Mr. Brook,” the therapist who had a nametag that read ‘Dr. Bruce Thompson’, addressed my dad by his first name.  I had just come out of the therapist’s office after a pretty intense session of questions and answers.

“Are you sure?” my dad asked back in a worried voice.

“Absolutely,” the doctor answered, and then leaned closer to my dad to say something in a low voice. This infuriated me. He was obviously telling my dad something that he didn’t think was okay for me to hear. I perked up my ears, trying to catch his next words. All I was able to make out was “Meditation techniques…………stressed out……imagining things….It will get better, no worries.”

I spun on my heels and stormed towards the exit of the hospital.

“Aries!” I heard my dad call out from behind me, but I didn’t stop.

I hurried out of the gloomy, depressing place and walked in the direction of our car. Not too long after, I was joined by my parents. We all buckled up in our seats.

“That wasn’t too bad, was it?” my mom asked me cheerfully as my dad backed out of the parking space and swerved the car, aiming for the main street.

“What do you mean it wasn’t ‘too bad’?” I demanded roughly, “It was awful. You both think I’m going insane, don’t you? Well, how am I supposed to react to that?”

“Honey, we don’t think you’re insane!” my mother sounded genuinely shocked. She spared me a glance in the rearview mirror before continuing, “We just brought you here so that you could tell Mr. Bruce what you couldn’t tell us.”

“I….I……,” I sputtered, at a loss of words.

My dad gave a satisfied ‘hmph’. The rest of the car ride home was rather uneventful and silent.

****

I squinted in the bright sunlight penetrating the windshield and steered the wheel to the right. I turned onto a narrow lane that had vibrant green trees emerging from both sides of the road. Another right turn and I was soon parking the car that I’d borrowed from my dad for a while. I pulled out the keys from the ignition, locked the side doors and quickly strode to the library.

Phew! It was still open. I peered inside before entering. The library was almost empty, only a few people scattered here and there.

I stepped into the cool interior of the library, which was a huge relief from the glaring sunlight outside. The rows of aisles loomed up before me, thousands of books arranged neatly onto shelves. Each section was labeled by genre. My footsteps muffled by the carpeted floor, I maneuvered my way to a cubicle at a segregated end of the library, containing two large microfilm readers. I didn’t need to call the librarian to direct me on how to use it. Somehow, I already knew. After inserting a film dating back to four to five years ago, I scanned through the stored data, searching for a particular issue of ‘The Daily Observer’. My eyes landed on the brief newspaper article that I’d been hunting for with so much anticipation.

A part of me felt oddly pleased at my find while the other, smaller part of me was drenched in fear. Why was I even at the library and why would I look for old newspapers? None of it made any sense.

I squinted my eyes at the computer screen to read the miniscule handwriting better.

Mr. Salvins, 40, has died last night in a supposedly gun ‘accident’. It is presumed, as described by their neighbor, that Salvins and his son were in a fight of some sort, during which the gun was unintentionally triggered. Though no signs of struggle have been found, Mrs. Salvins and her seventeen year old son, David Salvins, have apparently fled the scene and headed towards town. This leads us to believe that they might be somehow involved in the murder of their family member. As for now, police officers are on the lookout for these two delinquent fugitives for questioning and further investigations are to be continued.

The report ended here and a medium sized picture of the whole family was printed in black and white below it.

So that’s where you went, to the town, I thought haughtily, you thought you could just run away? Then you’re mistaken, dear son and wife. I have come back. I have come back from my grave to rightly avenge my death.