My unavoidable appointment with Mr. Heathers was slowly approaching as i made my way up Summer HIlls Road. My eyes fixed on the looming building ahead of me and my already shaken hands grasping the steering wheel. The four lonesome parked cars seemed displeased by the nature of their destinations, almost as if they were once the loyal dogs who had lost their owners moments before. I park in the shadow of a half awoken tree and sit there ignoring my cowardice conscious.
I get out and pace towards the double doors, haunting, and seductive.The air is still and stagnant with the casual passerby gliding through the corridors. I look for room K37 hoping to find myself lost rather than coming to terms with my “helper.”
K37 stares down at me, I see the front desk through the glassed door. I step in, 3 patients to my left a corner with empty chairs to my right.
“You have an appointment sir,” the front desk woman asked.
“Uh yes, with Mr. Heathers” I responded trying to straighten my voice. Her half moon spectacles inspecting me.
“Alrighty, we'll call you up when he’s ready, have a seat dear.” Her facade smile making me uncomfortable, I go to pick a seat and wait anxiously.
The grumble of the AC is all that is heard while i wait for my appointment. Twenty minutes go by and the door opens followed by an elderly woman who reads “Scott Wheeler.” I walk up and follow her lead, she knocks on Mr. Heathers door and opens.
“Welcome. Come in come in,” he tells me with his head bent over the phone. He quickly hangs up when I notice it and greets me with a wide long lasting smile (what is it with this place and smiles?).
“You must be Mr. Wheeler correct” he asks with a grin.
“Correct.” I reply fumbling in my seat, swallowing the anxiety.
He’s dressed professionally as any psychiatrist should, a dark grey coat followed by a purple tie completing his suit. His eyes darker than any black I had seen on a pair of eyes before.
“On the report here it says Hunter made the appointment for you out of great concern?”
I hesitate and comply, “ yes he’s my friend sir, he thinks the accident changed me, thinks I’m going to hurt myself or something. I can tell you Mr. Heathers I have no intention of doing so, but he wouldn’t let it go if I hadn’t come to see you.”
“Hmm I think you mean that he is a good friend for worrying about your well being. Therapy is the best medicine Mr. Wheeler and i hope that you can let me in to help you.” He says scratching his neck.
Something about the way Mr. Heathers looked at me did not correlate with what he was telling me. I didn’t feel the concern but a cold deep dread seeping out from him. He had other plans for me i felt it with every goosebump on my body. Something wasn’t right.
“Something wrong?” he asked once he noticed my suspicious stare.
I wake up from my trans and agreed “no yea I am grateful for him,” I smile weakly.
Mr. Heathers resumes to scratch his chest and neck, causing a green rash to form. His urgency to keep going is seen in his fidgeting fingers until he suddenly stands up awkwardly.
“I.. I need to go get something from our document room I'll be right back ok”
“Is everything ok sir?” I ask with his sudden movements.
“Yes!” Mr. Heather’s aggressive reply surprises him, “sorry I didn’t mean to yell i just need you to stay here while i fetch some things ok.”
Frozen, I manage to nod my head as he rushed past me with a limp. I was confused more than anything, I pace back and forth wondering if i should leave. As i made my way back to my chair Mr. Heather’s phone rings, startling me. I quickly sit down afraid he will hear the phone and barge in to answer it.
It stops ringing and a few seconds later someone calls again. I go to pick it up “hello” I answer firmly.
A familiar voice comes from the other end “ Sir I’m sorry to bother you. How come you hung up on me? Is scott There yet? Oh please it’s killing me don’t hurt him take me instead please!”
“Hunter, is that you?” I ask.
“Scott! Oh my God. I’m so sorry. Forgive me please. Where is Mr. Heathers?” He whispers half sobbing.
“He left the room to go get something. Hunter slow down sorry about what? What’s going on? are you okay?”
Hunter Interrupts and yells “Scott listen to me get out of there now!” He catches his breathe, “Mr. Heather’s is a f***ing demon or something please I’ll explain everything later, just get out of there!”
I hang up the phone and head to the door, but two black eyes have beat me to it. Mr. Heathers stands there tall and ruffled. His tie looser than before, his hair a turmoil of mess, and his neck rooted with veins.
He laughs a deep laugh and mocks, “something wrong sir?” He twitches and locks the door behind him……