Crazy Town

A Trip to the Psychologist

Unknown POV

'Welcome ma'am, please come in and take a seat' the man tells me, well he's not just any man, he's a psychologist. I follow him inside his office, I hold the arm rest of the long sofa and lower myself onto it, gripping my walking stick tightly but shakily. I sigh comfortably once I'm seated, my walking stick leaning against the couch, 'would you like anything to drink? Some water?' he asks, I nod. 

I watch as he walks over to a small table on the side of his room, a tray is placed on it holding a large jug of water and a few empty plastic cups, he pours the water into one of the cups before coming back over and handing it to me, I take it before gulping down almost half of the cup. The psychologist drags a chair across so that he is sitting a couple of meters in front of me, he smiles. 

'You're a new patient here' he states, flicking open a notebook and clicking a pen, 'Tell me what made you come and see me' 

'I just want to be sure that I am not growing crazy in my old age' I tell him.

'What makes you think that?' 

'I am a perfectionist, I have not been diagnosed with OCD, I know I don't have it, I was never like this when I was young but as I got older and specifically after my son left home and my husband left too I have become a perfectionist, everything in my house has its own space, it must be clean and tidy at all times and often things must be facing a certain direction' I explain to him, he nods slowly and I watch him scribble in his notebook. 

'Can you give me an example of things that have to be perfect in your home?' he asks.

'Everything' I tell him, 'the TV remote must be in the middle of the coffee table and pointing towards the TV, my figurines must be perfectly aligned, my cutlery drawer must be organised and tidy... just everything' 

'So, you tell me your son and husband left, how long ago was this?' he asks

'It was years ago, my son left home when he turned eighteen to pursue his career and it was only a couple of years later that my husband left too' I tell him.

'I see, how often does your son visit you? Do you still have any kind of contact with your husband?' the man asks, scribbling more notes into his notebook. 

'Ever since my son left, he has not visited me at all and I have never expected him to, I knew as soon as he left that he was not coming back and I had prepared myself, my husband has not visited me either since he left, however this is because he is unable to do so, he is an old man now and his mental state deteriorated quickly after our son left home, our relationship ever since our son was born had always been very difficult and it affected his mental health greatly, I plan to visit him one day... when the time comes' I sip the water from the cup that I am still clutching in my hand.

'I understand ma'am, I don't think you're crazy, many people pick up habits and new ways of life after they lose someone dear to them, especially if it's two people, sometimes knowing that you're son and husband are still alive but not being able to see them is harder than if they were dead, I think becoming a perfectionist is one way of coping with your losses' he tells me, I shake my head slowly.

'No' I say.

He raises his eyebrows, 'No?' 

'No, it's not a way of coping... it's a way of protecting myself' I explain to him, he just stares at me blankly, 'If I know where every single item is in my home and I know how it should be laid out, it assures me that everything is in its place, but lately I have noticed that things have been moved out of their place or have been put facing a different direction... that doesn't trigger any type of OCD, it's a warning signal to me, it tells me that the end is near, that all I have worked for throughout my life is now coming to an end... I came here to ensure that I'm not going crazy and seeing things, if I can be sure that what I'm seeing is real and not a figment of my imagination then I can prepare myself' 

'Um, and what is the end that you have worked all of your life for?' he asks, he had been writing notes as I spoke.

I don't answer him, I can't tell him. 'Tell me, am I crazy? Am I seeing things?' 

'Well, I cannot just tell you this, figuring out if someone is hallucinating needs to be medically tested' he tells me, I nod slowly.

'I don't think I'm crazy, but at the same time a small part of me wishes that I am crazy, I always knew that the end would come but I expected a different outcome, there are a few things I must do before the end, I must visit my husband and I must visit another person, a girl, a girl I met by coincidence, I must find her and speak to her... but I think it's still a bit too early for that yet, I have to wait until the warning signs become more imminent' 

I look up at the man sat in front of me, he's rather young and is staring at me in complete confusion, he probably thinks I'm crazy but that doesn't matter, he is never going to find out what I'm talking about, he's never even going to see me again, I guess I didn't really need to come here and ask him whether I am crazy or not, I just needed talk to someone.

I get up, leaning on my walking stick 'Thank you for your help' I nod over at him, he scrambles to his feet in surprise looking down at his watch. 

'Oh um, are you sure? We still have some time before your slot is finished' he tells me.

'I'm sure thank you' I say, walking slowly to his door, he pulls it open for me and bids me farewell. I walk out onto the street and take a deep breath, a quick movement from the corner of my eye catches my attention and I look over to see a tall man, a hood over his head and a cap covering his face... I already know who he is, I turn and begin walking in the direction of my home... I wonder what the next warning signs will be.

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HEY GUYS! I hope you found this chapter interesting... who do you think the unknown person is? What do you think she's referring to by 'the end'? Who do you think is stalking her? Do you think it's linked with the murders or a separate issue? VOTE&COMMENT