Weakness In Your Eyes

999 26 70
                                    

Author's Note: Welcome to the new short musical book which is going to be approximately 8 songs, hence, meaning 8 songs in the playlist, sorted by its chapter name and vice versa. The song Weakness in Your Eyes is by Elysion as a debut song of the Spotify playlist. Anyway I hope you like and enjoy this dynamic roller coaster. 


--- *** ---

--- 31st of October, 1964 ---

Just a few minutes ago the parents of their possessed adolescent arrived in the mental hospital to seek medical cure and council with professionals as their crucial task was seeking the head nun of the mental institution's word at first.

After the Bostonian confronted the recently hired psychiatrist with whom they didn't like one another in the beginning due to their debatable point of views in their worldviews Dr. Oliver Thredson, afterwards she accepted the anxious parents of Jed Potter in her austere, unwelcoming office, in order to hear their jeremiad of the young man, whose demeanor was unspeakably eccentric lately, in their humble opinions.

"Jed's been a good boy. He's always listened. He's never talked back." The younger lady's tear-stained, powdered in incarnadine complexion facial features were contoured with sheer disquietude and distress, brewing and cooking inside her frail skeleton as toxic cauldron. "Our problem started a month ago." All of a sudden, the brunette averted her stare, breaking off the eye contact with the head nun of the mental institution, turning to her husband. In the meanwhile, the visibly at first sight middle-aged man bobbed lightly his head, lowering his glassily jaded gawk, whilst his wife was explaining to the pious, stern sister of the church what Jed used to be until the unrealistically haphazard possession befell him.

"Mrs. Potter, you needn't worry. Good boys gone bad is my area of expertise. I've had great success in curbing the chronic masturbator." At the moment, the Bostonian dry, firm Bostonian accent accentuated her council, whilst the both invited guests in her austere office were listening attentively her without peeling a single word, in order to not disrespect her in any moment, knotting her both elvish, milky as oysters hands' slim fingers as fences.

All of a sudden, the three adults were caught off guard by the recently hired psychiatrist of the old facility, who stepped inside the office, closing warily, politely the mosaic office door, whereas the blonde's elderly still gorgeous, well-defined facial features were silhouetted with vague speechlessness.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. We weren't finished our conversation, Sister Jude. I didn't realize you had company." The young doctor approached the parents, earning the suspicious speechless gawk of the blonde after excusing himself. "I'm Dr. Thredson, psychiatrist here. I'm at your service." Meanwhile, he extended his mammoth, pale as ghost hand, offering the Potters' a formal handshake.

"You need to leave, Doctor." The middle-aged lady got from her seat, , her petite, pale as oyster hands pawing the edges of her cherry wood bureau, nagging at him with coldhearted, stern undertone, scratching her throat, earning his sarcastic gaze with a vague smile, blooming on his pale pinkish lips. Incredulity punctured her grimaced glare at him as if a married couple were cut off curtly in their mid-sentence during a heating debate.

"Uh! Sister Jude, please!" All of a sudden, Jed's mother snapped the doctor and the nun out of their dispute. "Our boy is troubled; we could use a doctor's opinion." They gawked glassily at the brunette.

"How I can help?" Once the brief dispute that Oliver and Jude had, they seated altogether except the psychiatrist as Oliver enquired the anxious mother of an only child.

"Jed just turned 17." Shortly before the brunette commenced with her explaination, she spread defeatedly her hands, seizing her lips and cheeks, shooting an unbreakable eye contact to Oliver. "Over the last month, he's grown listless, moody. Sometimes he doesn't get up from bed for days. And then, the next moment, it's like someone tied a live wire to his body." In the interval, he was sitting on the top of the cherry wood bureau, paying utterly attention to the complaints of the younger lady, assimilating the bizarre symptoms, affecting the teenager.

Holy SuccubusWhere stories live. Discover now