Little Witch

Chapter Three

As I enter Dr. Hutton's office I can't hide the big smile on my face.

"It's seems to have been a good week for you?", he says, being amused by my child-like excitement to tell him everything.

I tell him everything; I even show him the book. I let him hold it and observe him closely as he looks at it slowly. His face tells me that he still doesn't believe; worse, he thinks this development is not good at all. I should have seen it coming. Sometimes I just forget Dr. Hutton is not my friend, as much I want him to be.

"Do you know who sent you this?", he asks as if he wants to have a serious talk with this person. I tell him about the short message. In thoughts, he shakes his head disapprovingly. I know what he thinks: "Oh no, this will fuel her illusion even more." I want to tell him that it isn't an illusion of any kind, but I don't want to make he even more concerned.

If you know anything about going to the therapist, you know what they always tell you. "Tell me everything, otherwise it is impossible for me to help me." Dr. Hutton told me the same so many years ago. If I had any other reason to see him, I would of course tell him everything, but my position is unique and since I don't want to be stuck in an insane asylum, I just don't tell him the full truth.

I want to distract him, so I start telling him about the vampire I met only minutes ago.

"He looked like a porcelain dolls with cold eyes and a devilish smile", I tell him. Dr. Hutton is still holding my precious book in his hands, making me increasingly worried that he will not give it back to me.

"I have noticed that describing a very particular type of person whenever you tell me about vampires.", he says, choosing his words more carefully than usual, "Have you thought about that I think certain people are vampires because they have these certain features?"

I sigh and look out of the window, observing the wind rush through the leaves in the garden of the office.

"The reason is that vampire have a certain effect on any other creature or human. One look is enough to be entranced with them, making you want to...", I pause, not knowing how to explain. Dr. Hutton looks at me demanding. He thinks that if I see that my so-called illusion didn't make any sense, I would simply get over it. It' almost like he doesn't know me. "They make you dizzy, making you forget everything and anyone around you except for them."

I'm satisfied with this explanation; my therapist is not.

"To me it seems like you are simply attracted to these people and because you can't explain your emotions, you say they are vampires.", he replies. He has nearly never talked to me like this, totally dismissing every sense of magical and even insulting me slightly. He sounds exactly like my parents.

At my first therapy session, Dr. Hutton told me many things, one of them being: "If you feel uncomfortable at any point, please tell me immediately." The way he had just talked to me makes me nearly tell him this, but something is holding me back. My legs twitch and I stare to the ground.

With the last of my power I say: "You're wrong." I don't look at him as I say this.

I can hear him sigh. No one says everything of a moment. I know Dr. Hutton just wants to help me, but he doesn't understand anything. I wish I could make him believe. My book doesn't offer any spells for me to try, but the information is too valuable for letting him steal it from me.

I look at the big antique clock on the wall and that we still have 33 minutes left. Even though I want to leave, I don't want to spend a whole week wondering what Dr. Hutton thinks about me. I take a quick look at my therapist, who is observing me calmly.

After another moment of silence, Dr. Hutton is sure I don't intend to say anything else, he proceeds to sit up straight, and says: "I'm sorry that my comment disheartens you, but I have the feeling its time for you to confront your illusions heads-on."

I know that he only wants to help me, but I know that my world is real. I wish I could make him see. The stern expression on his face gives me the urge to tell the biggest lie I have ever told him.

I look at the ground and slowly say quietly: "Maybe you are right." I don't look up, but I can imagine Dr. Hutton's face. He is probably pleased with himself, hitting my buttons at exactly the right time, but also surprised because of my sudden chance of thought.

I hear his pen racing over the notebook. At least I brightened his day. But nevertheless, I need to get my book back before I walk out of here. He is still writing when I stand up and declare that I would like to leave now.

This confuses my therapist even more. "I don't think that's a good idea.", he says while also standing up. He towers over me, still holding my book in his hand.

"Could I have my book back, please?", I asks in a quietly, but nevertheless firm voice.

"I also don't think that's a good idea either.", he replies.

I don't know what to do now. Why didn't I think about what to do when Dr. Hutton refuses to gives the book back? Confused I look at him.

"Why don't we both sit down again and continue to talk?", he suggests, waiting for me to make a move before sitting down himself.

Since I don't know how to get the book right now, I stare at Dr. Hutton angrily and take my seat again. He does the same, putting the book on the sofa next to him. For a second I stare at it, but then shift my focus to my therapist. He is focusing on me and only me. His look pierces me, making me want to either run or punch his face that seems oh-so confident.

"So, why did you want leave?", he asks me. I can hear the pen on the notebook, breaking the complete silence between us. The truth is that I don't want to lie to him anymore; I want my magical book back. But telling this to him right now would reveal that I still believe in my so-called illusion. If I did this, he would probably never see me again. So lying again is the only choice...

"I've just been inside my own world for so long, stepping outside it, even for a second, is so scary.", I admit falsely, observing Dr. Hutton's reaction. He seems satisfied with my answer, writing something in his notebook. While he is doing this, I focus on my book again. It is so near, but also so far away. I stare at it, wanting to feel its rough leather case and old papers again. I imagine the book on my lap... and so it happens.