nightmares ~ doctor who

Ch 2 - Dr. Doctor and the Murder Box

Dr. Doctor and the Murder Box

I'm left alone in a field of fire. People are screaming everywhere, and the only thing I hear other than screams are explosions. Dead bodies and machinery is scattered around me. I'm hurt and surely dying, but no one is here to help. Finally, a man comes. He looks nice enough, someone I can trust. But then something changes. Instead of him having an evil grimace like my normal dreams, his face changes into someone of trust and a warm smile blossoms upon his face. He brings out his hand, his face telling me to take it.

By now dream me and subconscious me are confused. This new man is nothing like the man we both knew from before. But his invitation might be the only way of surviving.

I move my hand towards his, which surprisingly takes a great deal of effort seeing how weak I am. I feel the flames lick my feet and nervousness builds up inside me. If I don't reach him quick, I will die.

My hand gets closer and the flames move farther up my body. Just as I'm about to hold my hand in his and the fire starts to reach my heart, I wake up with a jump. I rub my pendant and try to calm down, but my heart's still beating erratically.

"What the hell was that?"

******

I didn't go to sleep again that night. The big change really freaked me out. My dream didn't change for 14 years, and then this happens out of the blue. I'm too afraid to find out why.

I walk down the street I travel down every day, except this time, it's noon and not dusk. My therapist has plans this afternoon, so she decided to bump it up to midday. I'm actually glad. I don't want to have another encounter with the weird tweed man.

I reach the building where I'll meet my shrink and I quickly chat with the lady behind the counter. After getting everything all sorted, I sit in one of the hard old chairs in the far corner. People won't notice me when they walked in, which I liked.

I absentmindedly rub my pendant and daydream while waiting for my name to be called. A little boy with his mother won't calm down, crying and screaming about how he doesn't want to see the doctor people. His little fit makes me smile slightly.

"Hayden?" I look up at the counter lady with a hum. "Dr. Hannigan will see you now." I get out of my chair and walk towards the doors that lead to the hallway with all the offices. I make my way to office 11 [I HAD TO] and open the door, expecting to see Dr. Hannigan sitting in her chair waiting for me. Instead, there's a man.

"Hello Ms…" the man looks at me intensely for a couple seconds before quickly looking down at his chart, "Oullette!" He smiles kindly but his eyes are full of surprise.

I look at him confused, wondering why he's acting this way. Eying his tweed jacket and bow tie, I realize he's the man from last night, and my confusion melts away. He probably recognizes me too. I sit down in my chair and gently look at him.

"Are you feeling better?" I ask. My emotions usually blind my common sense, like wonder why he was here instead of Dr. Hannigan, and what the hell happened last night.

"Me? Feeling better?" He snorts. "I should be the one asking you that. You are here for therapy sessions for a reason."

I roll my eyes. "I don't want to be here. My parents forced me."

"Ah, good ol parents," he happily sighs. "But they do what they do for your own good, so you're obviously here for a good reason."

"Well, I think therapy is rubbish, seeing as I've been doing it for two years without any results, so can I ask you a question instead?"