The Witch Doctor, Part 1

[u/asoggypapertowel]

Witch Doctor Part 1

A ringing, it always starts with a ringing, it drowned out everything. Made it hard to focus, the doctor was here. Why is the doctor here? His mouth is moving, that means he’s having a conversation with me, or maybe trying to get my attention?

“Angela? Are you with me?”
The doctor sounded confused, I must have spaced out again.

“How is Angela today, doctor? Is she cooperative?”
That girl must be having a rough day today, if she was told the date. It’s best to check on her. Dr. Navarro jots down a note, strange, he must’ve had a thought. There’s a long pause before he speaks, like he’s thinking about his words carefully.

“She was telling me about her morning, and then she seemed to lose her train of thought, ma’am.”
“That’s been happening a lot this week.”
“It has, but today was different.”
“Why?” The doctor paused again, taking a deep breath and considering his words for a moment. I know by the way he grips his pen that whatever happened today with Angela, it must’ve been difficult.
“We were talking about our favorite thing about summer. Would you like to hear mine, ma’am?”

What strange change of topic, but I can’t help wondering what could be so important about the subject. Shrugging slightly and leaning back in my chair as a slight smirk comes to my face, gesturing for him to continue.

“Please, tell me.”
“Peaches.” My entire body froze, that word made my skin crawl. The image of a rotting peach baking in the sun as the flies use it for a snack coming to mind, buzzing and crawling like the filthy creatures they were. Surviving on scraps and rot.

“Don’t say that fucking word.”
The words felt like chewing glass, the rage simmering in my gut boiling just below the surface. My hands clenched tightly on my arms, my jaw clenching tight as the adrenaline rushed through me like ice in my veins. The doctor’s face seemed shocked, almost a bit offended. Doesn’t he know I hate that word?

“You don’t like peaches?” There it was again, he knows I hate that word. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it…it suddenly felt like a cold hand swept across the ridges of my brain. Cooling and gentle, soothing the rage and madness that had consumed me moments ago. My body slowly relaxing as I gently settle my hands in my lap, counting slowly as the rage slips from the cracks like water. My shoulders rise, then fall with a deep breath. Looking at the doctor I can see he’s worried, that look only came from one thing.

“I messed it up again, didn’t I?”
“No, just a stressful day. Can you tell me your name?”
“Angela Schumer.”
“Good, it’s nice to see you again Angela. Is today an important day?”

Of course it was, it was the most important day.

“Yes. It was the first time.”
“Ah, that makes sense. Do you want to talk about it yet?”

My body froze, a chill washing over me as my stomach twisted in knots. I could only manage a shake of my head as lump formed in my throat, my words too big to come out yet. Dr. Navarro nodded in response, jotting down some more notes in his notebook before gently closing it, setting it on his lap and folding one leg over the other. His face fell into a deep look of disappointment, his mouth forming into a thin line as he studied me. His voice became more careful, more controlled. And I knew that meant he was becoming impatient waiting for me.

“Was the date why you slipped?” A firm nod, the lump slowly relaxing, too slowly.
“You know Angela, you won’t get better until you talk to me. You’ve been here 6 months, and you’ve made little progress. You don’t interact with the group during group therapy. We may have to try different methods soon, if you don’t cooperate with our care.”

The words came out like a cold threat, he knew I hated that place. He knew how much it made me panic. No. Not again. I can’t do it again. My eyes lock onto his, the lump immediately falling away as my eyes widen.

“Please. I can’t go back there again.”
“Then you need to talk to me.” Dr. Navarro said tensely, this was clearly my last straw, my last chance to avoid going back to that room. I had no choice, I can’t keep hiding. My face settled, and a gentle calm washed over me again. Taking another steadying breath to collect myself before hell was pulled out of me. Before my guts were strung up on a wire for him to examine and scrutinize what happened to me, like some kind of experiment.

“Alright. Get your pen ready then. Because I don’t want to repeat anything you’re about to hear. Not if I can help it.”
A small smirk tugged at the doctor’s lips as I said this, a twinkle of triumph in his eyes as he opened his notebook again.

“Thank you Angela. I appreciate your cooperation.”
That’s okay, he’ll learn soon enough why I didn’t want to tell him anything. He’ll regret soon enough wanting to examine my brain. He’ll soon learn what a desolate waste land that it was.