A suicidal young woman falls for a man with the supernatural power to control her mind. With it comes freedom from her anxiety and depression, but is he real and can he be trusted?
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"You sure everything is okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. I'm fine." I breathe in and out and flex my fingers. God, when was the last time I felt this good? This happy? This joyous?
I look back into his concerned eyes and realize my sudden change in demeanor will be off putting for him. I mean, this can't be his doing. That's absurd. It's probably just . . . well, who knows? Maybe I have a brain tumor. A blessed little brain tumor that's blocked off my anxiety and depression.
"You went a little pale there for a moment," he says. "You sure you don't want to step outside to catch your breath?"
I look out the window. Yes, it is a nice day. Why not go outside?
"Sure," I say and scoot out of the seat.
Philip grabs the tray of food while at the same time offering me his shoulder to lean on. I don't think I need it but lean against him anyway as we make our way to the front door. As we near the counter, Philip hails one of the DQ people and asks for a to-go bag.
The gray-haired man—Ben—from behind the counter barely hesitates. He takes the tray from Philip and stuffs the contents quickly into a bag, glancing concerned looks my way. To think, just a moment ago, I'd been entertaining thoughts that Philip had somehow put Ben under a trance. Just a normal guy working his day job. Probably knows Philip.
With the bag in hand, Philip says "This way" and escorts my feigned limping little self to the door. I can't help but enjoy the warmth of his shoulder and the honeyed scent from his cologne.
We step into the warmth of the summer sun, and a little giggle escapes my lips. Maybe I seem a little drunk now. Maybe Philip spiked my beverage somehow, but the thought that I could experience more of this blissful freedom from anxiety makes me only want to drink more.
"What's funny?" Philip asks, looking around the parking lot.
"I don't know," I say. "It's just that I'm feeling great and we're treating it like a medical emergency . . . or well, somewhat like one."
"Let's go this way."
We walk practically arm in arm a while, far longer than I expect, leaving the parking lot behind and even heading toward the residential neighborhood behind the restaurant. I vaguely think he's trying to kidnap me, but why would he first drive to DQ and then leave my car there?
Soon, we're out of view of the main traffic of the town. There's a slope of grass going down toward some old abandoned train tracks, and he says, "Let's just rest here and take a breather. Maybe you can eat some more."
"Okay," I say and plop myself down on the slope.
After looking around a bit, Philip settles down in the grass beside me.
"God, you're beautiful," I mindlessly blurt out.
"Just eat," he says, and I grab my bag from him and start munching on what's inside.
