No One Believed: A Zombie Thriller

The Therapist (Updated)

The feel of eyes watching me. Studying me.

Honestly, it's unnerving.

I've been in this room countless times for the past four months. Each time a different woman sits behind the white-painted desk. Only this time there are two people instead of one. How interesting. Maybe the administration figured two brains are better than one.

"Good morning. My name is Samantha but you can call me Sam." Sam stuck her hand out as an offering of peace. My glare did not falter the woman's offering. Instead it brought a smile to her face. Reluctantly, I shook it. I knew was I was being an ass to a woman I just met, but I was honestly over these sessions. Her smile shined back at me brightly, then she turned to the young man beside her. "This is my son, Luka." As I looked between Luka and Sam their eyes brought a sense of familiarity. Where have I seen them before?

"Have we met before?" My head tilts in question. "I don't believe so." She keeps, what I'm starting to believe is her signature, smile. "Luka here, will only be interning and helping with paperwork. So, don't mind him." I glance at the man of the hour and wonder. How come her son is her intern?

"He's currently in his third year and wants to specialize in things such as, sleep paralysis, reoccurring dreams and things of that sort." Sam picks up a folder neatly placed on the corner of her desk. A picture of my face flashes for a second. My file, I thought. Her eyes scan my file with quick ease, looking honestly impressed- until. A slight rise in her eyebrow alerts me. She fixes that raised brow at me. "Morgana, right?" She asks. I simply nod.

"Honor student, second year in college, military kid." Here we go again. The process of each therapist 'getting to know' me is honestly tiring. "My condolences." Condolences, of course. She looks at me as if I'll drop into the floor sobbing, saying 'why me'. My father had passes some time ago. I've learned to accept his death and move on. Even if I feel the void his death left behind everyday. Responding to her would just open that wound again and I'd rather not feel that pain today. Nora shakes her head in disappointment. "Morgana doesn't usually talk during these sessions. We've been through this stage many times. She does keep a journal however," she pulls out a notebook and hands it over to Sam. " She keeps all she remembers from her dreams in there."

Sam's eyes lit up like a kid's on Halloween. Taking in the sight of all the sweets they own. Her eyes skim over the pages and her signature smile is back. "Fascinating." She whispers. That smile irritates me to know end. I can already see the wheels in her head turning as she takes in all my thoughts.

"Is that really an appropriate response to reading my disturbing thoughts? I mean, these literally keep me up at night and caused me to get sent straight to therapy to avoid the looney bin." I plaster on a blinding smile of my own, "I am so glad you are taking such a liking to them." My voice drips with sarcasm. Her smile flattens just a bit and before she could say anything a new voice interrupts our conversation.

"Listen, I don't know what you've been through, but at least have some respect for your therapist." The young man, whom I forgot about, glares at me with daggers in his eyes. Ready for any retort I might spit back. His mother turns to him in shock. Then her smile is back. I dislike her and her son already.

"Forgot you were even here." I shrug without sparing him a glance. He grits his teeth. Luka stands from his chair and takes a step towards me. The lights in the room flash and I start to feel woozy. Black spots appear in my line of sight. Before I know it, I'm spiraling into darkness.

"She's a liability." Voices float around my ears but the darkness hasn't lifted. Vague white silhouettes danced in the darkness. "How do we know she's not just crazy? There's no way she actually foreseen this!" One silhouette in particular, moves as if agitated. Another follows behind him, reaching out.