She plopped down on the bed, face down, letting it sink into the blanket. This was her usual position after a hard therapy session. All she wanted to do was lay in bed afterward.
At least this was her last week with her current therapist. The therapist was good enough, but they hadn't really clicked, so that made things just a little bit harder. Not bad enough to request a change of assignment, but she was thankful that the year was up. That was the nice thing about using the teaching clinic at the local university- a constantly rotating selection of future therapists. If she didn't like someone but was too embarrassed to change, they'd be out in a year. Plus, they were cheap, an added benefit given her crappy insurance.
She rolled onto her side and wiggled her way up to the head of the bed, slipping under the covers without ever getting up. She stripped off her jeans and T-shirt and reached for her worn-out pajamas that were hanging over a nearby chair. Now if she decided to say screw it, she was ready for sleep.
She flipped to her back, arm over her eyes, trying to soothe her aching brain.
Maybe I should just go to sleep.
It was the only thing that ever really seemed to help after therapy. She'd tried to distract herself with video games, tv, but her mind kept ruminating over the session and what was discussed. Which was probably the point, but she just didn't want to deal with it right now.
She reached over to turn off the bedside lamp, the living room serving as her master night light as light streamed in through the open door. Not enough to keep her up, but enough so that she could still see her surroundings in the middle of the night. It just creeped her out to wake up in a totally dark apartment, especially living alone. She had enough anxiety without wondering if there was something or someone she couldn't see in the corners.
Mind still running over what was discussed, she wasn't sure when she started to drift off, but she knew she had when something startled her awake.
She flipped off the sheets by her left arm. She could have sworn she just felt something touching her. She scanned her bed, looking under and over the sheets for some kind of bug, but she couldn't find anything. Probably just a stray piece of hair that rubbed her arm in her sleep, she reasoned. She settled back down, content that there was nothing else in the bed.
"Hmmm, skittish."
She started upright again. She scanned around the room but didn't see anyone there. She could have sworn she just heard a male voice, though. She reached for her phone in case she needed to call for help, but she felt pressure on her right wrist, forcing it onto the bed, being held down. But there was nothing there.
"Shhhhh, no need for that."
She felt as if someone was massaging her temples, gently stroking her forehead, trying to ease her back into a lying position. She didn't give in. "Who are you?" she shouted, still whipping her head to see all around her, and still seeing nothing.
"That's... a bit of a loaded question." A pause, and the sensations on her forehead started to recede. "Suffice it to say I work at the clinic."
Great, she had a stalker, and from a place she was going to for help, no less. She was still scanning all around her, and still didn't see anything, not even a shadow from the living room. "How did you get in here?"
"Strictly speaking... I'm not," the voice said. "Not wherever you are. Which I'm assuming is your home. Or-" Is it possible to
hear
a frown? "-someone else's house..."
She didn't say anything, still trying to process what the hell was happening right now.
"My apologies, I can only see what's immediately around you."
Cameras. She shifted her attention to the ceiling. She still didn't see anything, but she knew those things could be ridiculously small.
"You don't have to keep looking around, love. You're not going to find anything. Nothing
to
find."
He- whoever
he
was- seemed to figure out that she wasn't going to relent anytime soon, and gave a small sigh. "I'm here in your mind."
What?
"It's... a gift that I have." He said it in an almost embarrassed way.
She didn't know how to process what on earth was going on here, and wasn't sure what to do next.
"What do you want?" she asked, afraid of the answer. "Why are you holding me down?
How
are you holding me down?"
She felt the pressure lessen on her wrist. "Apologies again, but usually calling the police because you're hearing voices is not the best look, love. Besides, your file indicated that you have some... submissive tendencies... so you could say that I was testing the waters."
"You read my file?" she asked incredulously. She thought that was supposed to be confidential to all but her current therapist and their supervisor, both of whom were women.
He started rattling off her name, date of birth, and all of the issues she'd been talking about since she came to the clinic, her face getting hotter with each one. "None of which are in my area of focus, which is an added benefit."
"Benefit of what?" she asked, teeth gritted.
"You're unlikely to be assigned to me in the next rotation."
"You're a student," she stated. Not a question, she was already dead sure of the answer.
"
Graduate
student," he corrected.
"Thank you for the clarification," she spat out. "Now go away." It felt absurd to say that to a disembodied voice.
There was a pause. "It says your last relationship ended three years ago," he said.
"I think you already covered that in my laundry list of problems."
"You live alone. Have a few friends you enjoy hanging out with, but usually refuse to because you're 'busy'."
