14. Discontentment

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My dreams were of a figure - a shadow of one. It was feminine. I already knew who she was. She ran, and I chased her. I felt something heavy in my hand. It was a hatchet. I was running faster, trying to catch her, but she was quicker.

Then, she disappeared, and I stopped in my tracks. I looked around the white room. I felt someone tap on my shoulder. I turned around. My scenery had changed. I was in a park. It was a field of one with a lake and trees and a trail. Daniel stood before me. He guided me to the lake and forced me to look at my reflection.

I was a shadow, only it wasn't of me, it was of her. I reached out my hand, hoping to touch my strange reflection, but before I could, I felt a push. I fell into the water. I tried swimming to the surface, but there was a wall of glass blocking me from doing so. I knocked on it. Daniel was staring at me. I knocked again, but he still stood there, expressionless.

At last, he smiled. My body grew light then. I was suffocating. His smile was like something I had never seen before. It was cold, sharp, purposeful. His smile frightened me, but more so when he walked away.

I didn't tell Daniel of that dream that night, but I was thinking about it as I knocked on his door that morning. He answered after the second knock, dressed in the right attire to go out. He looked at me with an expressionless face.

"Good morning," I said to him, trying to sound excited.

"Morning," he said back. "Where are we going?"

"Wherever you want. We can grab something to eat first. Do you want to do that?"

"Are you hungry, Isaac?"

"I am."

"Then I see why there isn't the reason why we shouldn't go."

Daniel ordered a cup of coffee and I ordered a bowl of oatmeal. Our conversation was light. I did most of the talking, telling him of my new success in the workforce. I told him of the patients I had and what I did to help them. I told him how I felt for each patient, and how hard it was to look at every situation and know that it wasn't the same. Daniel, all the while, sat and listened without interjecting, without judgment, and whiteout feeling, just as he had before. It was different nonetheless, and I could not understand why it was so.

I asked him what he thought about what he thought of my new adventures, but what he said was brief, dismissible. I was beginning to think I might have bored him. 

"Daniel," I said, mid-sentence, "Is something on your mind?"

"Why would you think such a thing, Isaac?" 

"Well, its just that you haven't said anything. Am I talking too much? Please, I want to hear about you. Tell me about you."

"What is it that you want to know?"

"Anything. Anything at all. Tell me what you have been doing recently."

"I can't say that there is much to tell. I read, Isaac. I read while you work and when you sleep, I still read. I do nothing all day. I take walks when my head hurts from reading. I eat when I am hungry, and I sleep when I am tired. I have nothing to share, nothing that holds anything of interest."

"Daniel?"

"Yes, Isaac?"

"Why is it that you don't come into my bed anymore? Why don't you come knocking on my door?"

He sipped from his coffee. "You're tired, Isaac, are you not? Is your day not filled with time consuming, eventful things? I simply do not wish to disturb you."

My face softened. "You aren't disturbing me. I miss you, Daniel."

Daniel's eyes got hard and cold then. It was only when he was focused on something that he gave all his attention like that. "And why is it that you miss me?"

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