Seeing My Psychiatrist

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
A man is haunted by his disturbing nightmares.
Will he be able to control them or will he follow his dreams?

Submitted: March 27, 2017

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Submitted: March 27, 2017

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I saw my Psychiatrist today. He said I needed help, how do i need to get help when he’s supposed to be helping me? It all started May/10/2013, i was having nightmares of men, women, and children getting killed gruesomely. He gave me meds to help me sleep but that doesn't work, I Always wake up covered in sweet, crying from the disturbing things i've seen. All my psychiatrist does is increase my dosage and write me prescriptions. Why can't he understand it wont work?

 

Months later i started to get used to the disturbing hellish nightmares that kept me from my peaceful slumber. On August/15/2013 which is today i walked into his office well dressed. Wearing a white long sleeve dress shirt with a black tie wrapped around tightly on the collar. The shirt was tucked into my dark grey dress pants I wore my light grey “Harley-Davidson” glasses and to top it all of I combed my silky golden blonde hair back, making me like an average human being. I smiled at him when i walked in while he ate his steak for lunch with both fork n’ knife and next to the plate was a can of “Coke”.

 

He looked surprised “you look happy today” he said while he hold the steak down with his fork while cutting deep into the edge of the steak with the knife. I could tell he was shocked of the new and improved me, he was used to the depressed raggedy deadbeat me. I sat in the chair that was in front of his desk and told him about my new fantasies (dreams). He looked at me disgusted “What the hell is wrong with you?” he shouted at me.

 

I got up from my seat furiously throwing the chair across the room, he tried to get up but i slammed his head on the desk. Out of the corner of my eye on his desk was his “Worlds Best Dad” pen I took and lifted his head up by the hair. Than I stabbed him in the center of the throat with the pen. I heard him choke and gag on his own blood. I tried pulling the pen down towards his chest but it wasn't sharp to cut through his organs or breaking his bones. So i ripped the pen out of his neck forcefully, he began to breath heavily gasping for air holding his neck with both hands trying to stop the bleeding, seeing his eyes water from the pain that was given to him. I took the knife off his plate and stabbed him again in the throat this time it goes through one of his hands that was holding his neck together. I pulled out the knife again this time he removed his hand so i quickly jammed it in his throat one last time before forcefully pushing it down towards his chest.

 

The sound was smoothing of his ribs and bones cracking n’ breaking like when you break crab legs at your local “Red Lobsters”. I watched as he took his last breath. I finished the job by pulling the knife from his chest to his lower stomach watching and feeling the blood and organs spill out. I smiled and wiped the blood and sweat from my forehead. I walked outside of his office into the main lobby. The people there gasped and screamed in horror at what they have seen. I wasn't so normal anymore.


 

My hair was a mess, my shirt untucked with large amount of blood stain with mt tie loosened, and my glasses was crooked with blood splattered on the lens. I took off my glasses and wiped the blood of it with my shirt and placed them back on my face. Police officers rushed in with guns drawn. One of them aimed the weapon at me while pushing me against the wall handcuffing me. The other officer went into the office and began to throwing up, he shouted questions at me. “What the hell happened?” I then calmly replied.


“I followed my dreams.”


© Copyright 2018 Austin Walley. All rights reserved.

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