The Psychiatrist: Trilogy to The Doll Collector

Chapter 5: Maria

The blood on my hands was glistening. It wouldn't take long before it dried and crusted onto my skin.

I raised it to my nose, inhaling the metallic scent. The aroma curled into my nostrils, sending delicate chills over my skin. I inhaled again, this time the scent tugging at my nose hairs. A sneeze was coming on, but I held a bloody finger to the columella to suppress it.

My knife was still in my hand, the thick consistency of the blood was thick. I drew it closer to taste it.

It was like tasting copper.

There was a knock at the door snapping me out of my daydream. I stood and opened it finding a young doctor on the other side.

He towered over me, blessed with such height. Although, most people did. His eyes seemed closed as he looked down at me and almost caused me to laugh at the fact that two people with such dichotomous heights were about to engage in a conversation.

"You must be Jordana." he said, extending his hand out. "I'm Zachary Aleksandrov. Zach for short."

"Oh yes, hello. It's nice to meet you." I replied, offering him a smile as I shook his hand.

"You as well. I know we sort of met yesterday, if only for a brief second, but I wanted to formally introduce myself."

"I'm glad you did, I'm still getting to know people here. It helps that everyone has their name embroidered on their coat. I noticed that when I saw you yesterday."

He nodded, taking a glance around my room. I assumed that it was the same as his. What stood out to me during this moment was a brief twinge of sadness that touched the expression in his eyes. It dissolved almost immediately and made me question if I had imagined it.

"Any plans for breakfast?" He asked.

"Just to eat." I laughed.

"Good," he chuckled. "I was just on my way to the mess hall, would you'd like to join me?"

"Sure."

I grabbed my cell phone, and slipped on my new coat before following him down the hallway. The walls were lined with pictures of former doctors. The expressions on their faces grew increasingly grim as we walked along. Not even the flash of the camera seemed to reflect in their eyes. I guessed my picture would be up there whenever I left. Hopefully it wouldn't look like that.

Zach led the way into the mess hall, where the other doctors were having breakfast. Each were at their own tables with only a couple groups of people sharing one.

"We often have solitary mornings," Zach whispered, as he handed me a tray.

The room was exceptionally quiet, making the rustling of my coat as I moved sound magnified. 

"Helps us get ready for the day and after yesterday, everyone is being extra solitary." He continued.

We went down the cafeteria line picking up plates of fresh pancakes and sausages. The server behind the counter smiled at me as she handed me a cup of orange juice. I returned the smile, grabbing a shiny green apple from the wicker basket on the counter.

Zach and I walked towards a lone table for two, and took a seat. The doctors at the neighboring table looked over and lingered their stares on my face. I smiled politely, diverting my eyes. My awkwardness never could read the room and showed up when I least needed it to.

The smell of pancakes was making my mouth water in anticipation and brought me back to the situation at hand. They looked homemade and were hot to the touch, and soon would be safely in my tummy.