Snip! Your hair falls out on to the ground. Mia, The hairdresser starts to blow dry your hair.
“So you're a physiatrist, huh?” Mia shouts over the loud noise of the blow dryer.
“Yeah. Right after this appointment I have to go to the office and meet my new client.” You shout back. Mia shuts the blow dryer and clicks it back in the stand. She quickly parts your hair, unclips the apron and lowers the chair so you can get out. You hand your credit card to Mia and and swipes it on the cashier.
“Good luck at your appointment.” Mia smiles. You could’ve sworn she’d winked but you were probably just psyching yourself out. After all, this client was the client that had been sent all of the way from new york because nobody could work with her, but, you had been assigned because you were one of the best at your office and if anyone could help this little girl it was you. How bad could she be? You had faced many troubled people and never had you failed them.
You pulled into the parking lot of your office building and walked to your room. You then prepared your office for the girl. You pulled out your notebook and her files. It was 1:09 in the afternoon. Her appointment was at 1. Since she was already late you opened up her files and read while you waited.
Paige Amelia Turnfold
Age 13
Parents: Unknown
Description: Multiple Personality Disorder.
Housing: Foster Homes
Comments: No foster home has kept her for more than a week.
“That’s not true” A little girl whispers. You flip around. A skinny girl with red curly hair into two pigtail braids stands behind you. How’d she get in here? You think.
“I don’t have a mul-ti-pull per-san-all-eh-tee dis-or-der.” She says. She almost looks scared. You relax.
“Are you Paige?” You ask.
“I prefer to be called Amelia.” She speaks in a young voice. Too young to be thirteen.
“Come sit in this chair honey.” You point to the white leather single couch-chair. She follows your finger and she sits in the chair and looks at you.
“My name is Dr. Victoria. You can call me whatever you want.” You smile. Trying to make them comfortable is the first step. You start to fix the papers in order and you look down for a second.
“Why am I here?” She asks innocently.
“Well, honey, that’s what I’m here to find out.” You start. “I just have to ask you a few questions.” You smile. She relaxes a little. You glance at what she’s wearing. A tee-shirt. It says I love my horse. She has a purple skirt on also.
“Well, I see you have a horse.” You ask. You are trying to get to know her as well as make her feel more comfortable.
“Actually I hate horses.” She says in a dark, deep voice. You look up from your papers, startled.
“Unless I’m killing them as practice.” She says. You are scared. That room feels. colder, less oxygenated. You clear your throat.
“I’m sorry- what?” You clarify. You couldn’t have heard that right. Unless I’m killing them for practice? This was not the same girl you just talked too.
“You know,” She starts to lean in and narrow her eyes. “I want to make sure I know how to kill someone before I do.” She smiles a cynically. She stands up out of her chair. Out of her red hair she pulls a pen. Slowly twist the top of the pen it hides away. A thin knife pops out.
“I got this shirt when I got the horse I practiced killing you on.” Switching the hand her knife was in, she jumped on the desk and prepared to swipe it across your neck- barely giving you enough time to slide under it and run to the door. Luckily there were the police officers that brought her there and the end of the hallway.
You turned the corner and ran to the officers.
“Officers, she crazy, she’s- she’s trying to kill me!” You stutter. The officer sits up and puts his hand on his taser and starts to speed walk down the hallway. As they turn into the room you brace yourself.
Silence.
“Dr. Victoria, what seems to be the problem here?” They ask in an unconcerned, professional tone.
“What do you mean?” You stutter. You peep into the room. There Paige is. Still sitting on the white sofa chair looking all innocent. You clear your throat.
“My sincere apologies.” You walk back into the room and sit down in your chair. The officer looks at you with concern.
“Are you alright, Dr. Victoria?” He asks.
“Yes, yes. I’m alright. I’m just a little light headed I guess. I better go home. We can finish your session tomorrow, Paig-I mean Amelia. Is that alright?”
“That’s fine.” She said in that too-young-to-be-thirteen voice again. As she left the room with the police officers you think to yourself. There is no way I am crazy. I’m not sick either. That girl is pulling something on me and she can do it to someone else. Tomorrow, I’ll request to switch. Selfish? Maybe. More like life-preserving. That girl wants to kill me and I will not be her victim.
The next day you walk into the office to request a switch. You go up to the desk to talk to Martha, the secretariat.
“Hello, I’d like to request a client switch.” You say nervously. She looks up confused.
“Who?” She asks.
“Paige Amelia Turnfold.” You say. She looks even more confused as she clicks through the files on the computer.
“Sorry sugar you never had a client named Paige Amelia Turnfold. I don’t know who you are talking about.” She looks up for an answer.
“That’s silly. I was here with her yesterday. She has a multiple personality disorder. Her parents are unknown. I ran out to get the cops who brought her in.” You say, frustrated. This is insane. I am NOT going crazy, you think to yourself.
“Honey, I think you need to sit down. I was here all day and no cops came in. You can call them if you’d like.” She pulls out the phone, dials the police station’s number, and hands the phone to you. It clicks when it picks up.
“La Conner police station how may we help you?” The static officer asks.
“Um... I need-I-were the police at the Glenn Psychiatrist's office on Main Street yesterday?” You splurt.
“Ma’am.” They start. Oh-no.
“Nobody was at the office yesterday. At all.” They say, sounding concerned. You hang up. On the police. You run out of the office leaving poor Martha sitting at the desk confused.
You aren’t crazy-Are you?