Carter Bridge.
Last nights 'adventure' with Tate didn't go so well. I was close to literally shitting my pants. But I didn't.
"Carter? There's someone here to see you." My mom called.
For a moment I thought it was Tate, but my dad told him to stay away from me. So who would it be?
"Hello, Carter." A man said. "I'm doctor Benson."
I gave him a glare as he entered my room, he carried around a black briefcase which made him look really smart.
"Your parents told me about your little incident yesterday with um..."
"Tate." I told him.
"Yes, Tate. Now Carter, does Langdon fit his last name?" He asked.
My eyes shot open, how does he know? I answered his question with a slight nod and when I looked back up he was starring at me with confusion written all over his wrinkly face.
"Carter, does this man fit the description of, Tate Langdon?" He asked as he held up a picture of Tate, his messy blonde hair and brown eyes starred at me.
"Yes." I nodded.
"Carter, you're going mental. This boy is your imagination, you need to realise that." His words came out slowly.
"What? But I see him everyday, since I've moved in here." I told him.
He shook his head and leaned in closer to me.
"Tate Langdon was shot years ago for killing fifteen pupils at school." He whispered.
I froze, I looked in the corner of the room and saw him. I saw, Tate. He smirked at me, the smirk he usually does.
"He's here, Dr! I swear! I'm not mental, he's here! Over there!" I yelled as I pointed to the corner.
Tate moved out of the room quickly before, Dr Benson could see him as he turned around.
"I'm not fucking crazy!" I screamed, I started to trash my room and smash things, Dr Benson opened his briefcase and took out a small needle, he walked towards me quite quickly and injected the needle into my veins, I felt myself drifting off into a deep sleep.
"I'm not crazy." I whispered before my eyes glued shut and my brain shut off.
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