Mindful Madness

"You must be Rose Hart," the young receptionist said, drawing the teenager from her reverie. Her lipstick was as red as Rose's namesake and her shirt as green as the pot plant in the corner. Unlike Rose, this woman wasn't dreading Christmas.

The girl smiled gently, "Right."

"I'll take you to the Doc's office," the receptionist stood up, "How are you today, dear?"

"I'm okay," Rose nodded, unbelievable.

The receptionist's smile faltered, "The Doc shouldn't be too long. Just wait in that chair there for him."

"Thank you," Rose murmured, taking a seat like the receptionist had said to.

She left the door open, creating a weird mix of warm air from the lobby and cooler air from the room. Rose shivered, bringing her knees up to her chest. She sat on an itchy armchair which looked like it was made from the same material as her school skirt. A matching armchair faced her, in the small room with a coffee table placed between. As Rose knew all too well, it wasn't just there as a decoration but also as a barrier. Beside the other chair was a small ottoman and a desk lamp emitting a golden glow across the room. It looked like a scene from a movie, though it definitely was not.

It only took a short moment longer for the Doc to walk into the room, bearing a clipboard and pen.

Dr. Meditati was a weathered old man who looked like he'd seen one too many patients. His fragile hands shook constantly, his beady eyes would dart around the room but despite all of this, whenever a new patient walked in, he'd treat them with a smile that lit up like a Christmas tree. That's what it looked like to Rose, at least. His eyes were the same colour as Johnny's, leaving an unfair uncertainty in her.

"Miss Rose Hart, yes?" he presumed, hurrying to her to shake her hand, "I'm Dr. Meditati and I just want to know if you're okay."

I'm okay.

The gangly girl nodded weakly, "I'm okay."

But Rose Hart was most certainly not okay. Her red hair had been falling out from stress and she'd almost put her white blouse on backwards today, before the voice in her mind snapped her out of it.

"I'm not sure if I believe you," Dr. Meditati laughed gently, "We're going to go through the basic psych scenario. I'm going to ask you a question and you're going to answer it... truthfully. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes," Rose murmured, moving her arms into a crossed position against her chest.

Dr. Meditati began, "It says here that your younger brother, John, died last week. I'm awfully sorry for your loss. However, we need you to stay strong so we can get through this. You were driving the car, right?"

Right.

"Right," Rose nodded.

"You'd been on your way to buy... advent calendars?"

"Yes..."

"The car spun out of control on some ice, the car flipped over and he died on impact. You were left with some head trauma?"

No.

"No," Rose shook her head, "N-no head trauma."

Dr. Meditati's eyebrows scrunched up slightly, creating a thick grey line, "No head trauma?"

Right.

"Right."

"I'm sorry for this to all happen just before Christmas, Rose, dear. Can you possibly tell me what your brother was like? What were you getting him for Christmas?"

Rose's eyes widened in fear before shaking her head, "I-I... I can't..."

Dr Meditati leaned back in his chair. Looking at the girl, up and down, there was definitely some head trauma. "Rose," he murmured, "Are you seeing anything or hearing voices? Perhaps your brother's voice?"

I'm okay.

Rose trembled, "I'm okay?"

"I'm going to give you a Christmas present, Rose, and I want you to say the very first thing that pops into your head," Dr. Meditati leaned over the side of his chair to pick up a small, blue gift-wrapped box that slid into his palm easily. He held it out to Rose.

With still-trembling fingers, she unwrapped the box slowly, making sure not to destroy the paper as she lifted the sticky-tape. She flipped the object over after peeling back the wrapping and frowned at the black box hidden inside. Lifting the lid up took a few tries but once she'd succeeded, her eyes widened on the Christmas-tree shaped earrings.

I'm okay.

"I'm okay," Rose whispered, repeating her brother's words. Moving the earrings around in her palm, seeing the reflection of them from the light above, she was entranced.

Dr. Meditati smiled, "You're okay?"

Right.

"Right."

The door to the left of them both began to open and all at once, the box in Rose's hand, the wrapping on the floor and the clipboard Dr. Meditati had been holding disappeared. One moment it was there and the next it wasn't. Dr. Meditati nodded quickly, as if rushed now, "You're fine. Aren't you?"

"Hello, Rose," the younger woman in the white coat greeted, walking in, "I'm Dr. Philips. How are you today, sweetheart?"

Rose desperately looked between the two doctors suddenly confused by the situation. Dr. Meditati was paying the other doctor no notice whereas Dr. Philips looked, concerned, towards the chair and then back. Dr. Philips raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow, "Rose, sweetheart? Are you okay?"

I'm okay, said her brother. "You're fine," said Dr. Meditati.

"I'm fine," Rose squeaked out.

"... Great. Before we begin, merry Christmas, Rose."

"Merry Christmas," she responded weakly.

Dr. Philips moved to sit in the chair Dr. Meditati had been in. Yet, in the blink of an eye, he was now standing beside Rose's chair. She craned her neck to look up at him in fear but Dr. Philips drew the attention back, "The report the police gave me was that you were imagining things. Like, hearing and seeing things that weren't really there. Is that true, dear?"

"You're fine," Dr. Meditati hissed, gripping Rose's right shoulder painfully. She shuddered.

And then Johnny, sweet little Johnny, was gripping her left, "I'm okay."

"I'm fine."