Unknown

First of all, we'd like to say: thank you so much for reading this! We really, really appreciate
it.
This project started off with, "What if...?" and kind of shaped itself along the way. We
wanted to push ourselves to write the stories we've always thought about, and then get those
stories out there for people to read. This one has been a trial run of sorts, but it's been a great
learning experience for us both, and we'd like to keep doing it if we could!
So if you liked this short zine, please consider giving us a signal boost, and letting your
friends know about it! We'd be very grateful for your support.
Sincerely,
-(F.U.) and Han

REMEMBER THAT TREE EVERYONE SAID
WAS HAUNTED?
CONTRIBUTOR
Han is an aspiring storyteller who likes creating things, and then writing them down. If you liked her stuff, you
can find more over here at https://www.wattpad.com/user/black_waters.

There was a tree in a corner of the school field that everyone knew was haunted.
They said strange things happened near it--sightings, creepy noises, people disappearing. Of
course, nobody actually experienced any of this for themselves, since the tree had been fenced
off right after the school was built, years and years ago. But that didn't stop people from talking.
And everyone in school talked about it, because they had heard it from everyone else.
Sometimes I believed it--because some of my friends believed it--and sometimes I was
sceptical--because some of my friends were sceptical--but it didn't really make a difference.
The tree was there, and sometimes, they said, it whispered to you.
We all knew not to think about the tree--it can hear you!--or get too close--it will
possess you!. Even looking at the tree was a big no-no, because, they said, the tree could see
you watching, and wouldn't hesitate to get you to come closer, within its reach. Nobody knew
why, or how, but they all said: better safe than sorry.
So we warned each other from the other side of the field, a safe distance away. The years
passed, and rumours continued to float around the school. Nothing ever happened.
Until one day, of course, something did.
--
They said it was the security guard who heard it, during one of his late night patrols: shrill,
high-pitched laughter.
Like any sane person, his instinct was to bolt in the other direction.
He turned away, remembered his job, and turned around again. Slow, tentative steps brought
him past the empty school canteen, towards the big green field that was the school's pride and
joy. Throughout his slow march there had been no other inhuman sounds, and so by the time
he came to stand by the field barrier, he had regained some measure of calm, and, now confident
that he had only misheard, was entirely prepared to write off the whole incident as nothing
extraordinary.
He cast his gaze over the field, scanning it for anything out of the ordinary. Then--
It must have been an accident; everyone meant everyone, so he must have known better than
to go looking for trouble on an already-spooky night, but there his gaze went, as if pulled by a
magnet.
He looked at the tree.
The tree looked back.
--
"--should have run," someone muttered, as I walked past, jogging in the direction of my
classroom.
remember that tree everyone said was haunted?

"He was doing his job," Sara said to her friend, as I heaved my giant backpack off my shoulder
and onto my seat. The chair creaked under its weight.
"Yeah, and look where that got him."
"You're a jerk."
"What are you guys talking about?" I asked, coming up to their table.
"It's Pak Syed," Sara told me. "He got possessed by the...." here she trailed off, and jerked her
head once towards the field.
I nodded hastily, and the three of us stood around in a moment of silence as we raced to fill our
thoughts with something else. Arun shuddered, and crossed his arms. "Like I said, he should
have run."
"Is Pak Syed--is he...okay?" I asked.
"They said he's really sick," Sara told me.
"That's terrible."
"Shouldn't have gotten so close," Arun muttered, just before the bell for morning assembly
rang, cutting off any further conversation, as they scrambled out of the classroom.
The conversation played in my mind over and over, distracting me from the monotone of daily
announcements. It was hard to think about something without thinking about it, so I focused
my thoughts on Pak Syed, who was always there when I came to school, telling everyone to
hurry in before the bell rang, and how odd it had been to walk in today without him standing
by the gates.
As the last announcement finished and everyone began shuffling into class, Sara tapped me on
the shoulder. When I looked back, she asked, "Do you have tuition later?"
I frowned at her, already suspicious. "...no?"
"Great!" She grinned. "I've got math until 6, so meet me at the bus stop at 6:30, okay?"
"You mean...after the school's closed?"
"Yeah!"
"What? No!"
"Please? It won't take long!"
"What do you even want to do here that late in the day?"
Sara hesitated. "It's a secret."
remember that tree everyone said was haunted?

I crossed my arms. "If you can't even tell me what we're gonna do, why should I say yes?"
"Well," she began, putting her hands on her hips. "You do owe me a favour, right?"
"...yes, but--"
"And you said you'd do anything, right?"
"Yes, but--"
"And you got an A on our last geography test after all, right?"
"Okay, look--"
"And we would have gotten into much bigger trouble for that than sneaking around school in
the dark," she continued, leaning closer and letting her voice drop, "right?"
I sighed, and said, "Fine."
--
During math, Arun flicked a folded note onto my notebook. After looking up hastily to make
sure the teacher wasn't looking, I glared at Arun, but he only gestured discreetly behind him
and went back to scribbling in his book. Confused, I glanced over my shoulder, and saw Sara
winking at me. Hope rushed through me, and I raced to unfold it, wondering if she had changed
her mind.
But all the note said was:
Don't forget to call your mom and tell her!
I shoved the note into my pencil case.
--
And then we were hiding behind a bush, waiting for the new--and temporary--security guard
to walk past us during his evening patrol. His footsteps slapped loudly against the ground, and
we both held our breaths, counting the seconds. By 18, he was far enough away that I exhaled,
and rubbed my hands over my knees. "This is such a bad idea."
Sara peeked over the top of the bush. "It'll be fine."
"You still haven't told me why we're here."
"Be patient. You'll find out in about five minutes."
I was silent for a moment. Then, "We're going to get caught."
"No, we won't."
remember that tree everyone said was haunted?

"You always say that, and then we always get caught."
"We get caught maybe 80% of the time. Don't exaggerate."
"Numbers change," I muttered, ripping out a clump of grass and tossing it back down angrily.
"Please tell me why we're here."
"I want to take a closer look at the tree." Sara said.
My heart stopped beating. "What?"
"You heard me."
"Are you crazy? Weren't we just talking about Pak Syed this morning?"
"Yes, which is why I wanted you here with me," she said, glancing my way. "I'll get close, but
you stay further back where it's safe. That way, if anything happens, you can go and get help."
"But why would you want to do that? And why would you want to do that in the dark? Why
couldn't we have done this while the sun was still up?"
"Because then we would have been in plain sight, and would have gotten caught." Sara replied,
before turning suddenly. "Come on. We'll find you a spot to hide by the basketball court. That
should be far enough for you."
"No, wait a minute." I looked at her, and saw the way her eyes were wide, focused on something
in the distance. Goosebumps prickled over my skin, and the realisation settled heavy in my
stomach, followed by dread. "Oh no."
Sara stopped, and snapped her gaze over to me. "What?"
"It's got you," I whispered, slowly backing away. "Oh god, it's got you. I shouldn't have agreed
to come with you."
"What are you talking about?"
"The tree!" I hissed, and immediately dropped my gaze down to the ground, trying desperately
to think of something else.
Sara was silent. "You think...I'm possessed?"
I squeezed my eyes shut, and started chanting the first prayer I could think of.
"What? Hey!"
I ignored her, pushing on with the prayer even as I stumbled over a few words.
"I said hey!"
Oh god oh god, we were in so much trouble.
remember that tree everyone said was haunted?

"I can't believe--No!" She shoved me, hard enough to send me sprawling onto my side. "I'm
not possessed! I'm here because Pak Syed's getting fired over this mess, even though he's been
working here for--for years. And now he's getting fired! Just like that! All because of a tree!"
"Shh!" I glanced around. "Please stop talking about it."
"No! Nobody's even sure if the tree's really haunted. Nobody even knows what happened! But
they're firing him anyway!"
"Sara, please shut up."
"I'm here because I don't want him to lose his job. And you're here because you're my friend.
Because friends help each other. But I guess we're not actually friends after all, huh?"
"What are you talking about? Of course we're friends!" I stared up at her, at her wide-eyed
look. "That's why I'm asking you to listen to me. Now come on, it's not too late to get out of
here--"
"No!"
"Sara, wait--"
She turned away, the set of her mouth firm, determined,
"Sara!"
And took off running,
Straight for the tree.
--
I stared after her, my heart pounding in my ears, my whole body frozen to the ground. Sara
was one of the school's sprinters; she was already halfway there before I had even stood up.
There was no way I could catch up to her, no way to stop her. Oh god, she was only seconds
away from the tree, she was so close, she was--
--
--crumpled on the ground.
In the air, the sound of shrill, high-pitched laughter.
I screamed.
--
remember that tree everyone said was haunted?

Later--much, much later, I knelt on the ground next to Sara, who lay on a pallet the security
guard had found in storage. We were between the school gates and the canteen, where the light
was brightest, and Sara squinted at her surroundings, bleary-eyed as she woke.
"Thank god," I breathed.
She stared at me. "What happened?"
"The security guard heard me screaming," I told her, gesturing to where he stood, surrounded
by several teachers, all in deep discussion. "He carried you here, and then called the discipline
teacher, who called the others. Your mom's on the way here."
"Oh."
I hesitated. "Are you...okay?"
"Yeah."
"What did Arun get me for my birthday last week?"
"Nothing, because he forgot." Her expression scrunched up with annoyance. "I'm fine! I told
you, I'm not possessed."
I sat back, finally relaxing. "I was so worried."
"For no reason," she muttered.
"I was really scared for you, okay?"
"That's your own stupid fault! I told you everything was fine."
"Hmph." I squinted at the group of teachers, their faces shadowed by the lamppost directly
behind them. The road outside was still quiet, and there were no cars, no sign of moms coming
to fetch--and probably scold--their kids. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw one of the
teachers glance over in our direction, but he said nothing, only went back to talking. I crossed
my arms, suddenly cold.
"Can you hear that?"
I looked at Sara, who was now blinking up at the night sky, her stare distant. "Hear what?" I
asked.
"That sound."
"Sara, you're scaring me again." The teacher glanced back at us once more. I gripped my arms
tightly, forced myself to sit still. "It's not funny."
"I'm not trying to be funny," she said. Her voice was getting softer, her eyelids drooping.
"Then what are you trying to do?"
remember that tree everyone said was haunted?

"I know there's nothing there," she said instead, her words quiet, "but I can still hear it."
"Hear what?" I demanded. "What does it sound like, Sara? Tell me!"
She closed her eyes.
remember that tree everyone said was haunted?

CHAPTER I
CONTRIBUTOR
Considers herself an amateur in the world of stories, and as such spends most of her time not writing. Most of
her impossible scenarios will never make their way to paper, with which she has made peace.
Her (not) writing can be found here for all to read:
https://muggleweasley.wordpress.com/

The slow whirring of machines made her eyes heavy. But she had to push herself, she couldn't
let herself sleep.
With sleep come dire consequences.
She slapped herself again and again. Stay awake, stay awake .
Watch out for the beast, legend has it that if it sees you it'll eat you.
Her boss couldn't afford to lose another employee. Exit, where's the exit?
Find a button, the exit will reveal itself once the button is pressed.
"Maybe I can be of assistance, luv?" Get me out of here! "Afraid that I can't, sweetheart. You're too
much of an asset." Get me out! I don't want to be here! "Careful now, any louder and the beast will come
running for you," You said that you'd help! "I am, luv. Just not in the way that you'd like." Button, I need to
find the button. "Better hurry, then. Your time's almost up." What? "The clock, luv. Look up."
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
"Now I want you to focus on the beats, Erica," Charlie prompted gently, "Remember that you're
in a safe place and that no one can harm you here."
Charlie shifted silently in his seat, keeping his eyes on the metronome that was beginning to
slow. Their session was coming to a close, the hour was up.
"Once it stops," he said as he eyed his watch, "I want you to take a deep breath and open your
eyes. Take your time, there's no need to rush."
Lying on the couch opposite his was Erica, a woman of about thirty with a case of generalized
anxiety disorder. They spent today's session focusing on her nightmares which have
progressively worsened since she started her new job.
He remembered when she first came in; she was a bundle of nerves, begging for his help. She
had been to many doctors before him and none of their treatment seemed to work. Reluctantly
he agreed. She was frantic and he didn't think that saying no would do her any favours.
Charlie got too preoccupied with his own thoughts that he didn't notice her coming to.
"Ungh."
Erica opened her eyes slowly, heaving a sigh of relief as she took in the room around her: a
warm beam of sunlight filtering in through the windows, the couch covered in soft leather, the
scent of wood. Use your surroundings to ground you, was Charlie's advice for her bad days.
She needed that more than ever now as it felt like she had just ran a marathon. Her heart was
racing a mile a minute and she had beads of sweat running down the sides of her forehead.
You're at the doctor's office for your monthly session, she reminded herself. No one is coming
for you. Do not forget to breathe.
In through the nose, and out through the mouth. In through the nose, and out through the
mouth.
"How are you feeling?" Charlie asked after letting some time pass.
Chapter I

"Shaken," she replied, slowly putting herself into a sitting position. She tried her best to
compose herself before saying anything else; the dream shook Erica to her core, and she found
it hard to push the images away. The more she tried, the more vivid it became.
In through the nose, and out through the mouth. In through the nose, and out through the
mouth.
Again, Charlie checked his watch, they were almost five minutes over the hour. It was time for
Erica to go.
"It looks like our time's up," he said as he clapped his hands together, the sound making Erica
jolt upright, "But we can talk about it if you'd like?"
She looked at him with disbelief. Of course she wanted to talk about it, she was paying for his
services after all. But he obviously wanted her to leave, and she couldn't afford an extra hour.
"No, it's alright," Erica smiled meekly, "I'll just walk it off."
She slowly pushed herself off the couch with Charlie following suit.
The beast is near.
Erica released a gasp as she took a step back, searching for the voice. The accent, the honeyed
tone, it was all too familiar...
Like that voice from her nightmares.
It was just a dream, nothing more. You're just hearing things, that's all.
Charlie remained where he was, irked by her sudden change in behaviour. As much as he tried,
he couldn't help but to ball his fists in anger, his demeanour betraying his calm façade. She was
making things difficult and he hated difficult people. He had to break her away from her
thoughts or she'd never leave. But he had to be gentle, this girl was a fragile flower and tough
love never seem to work for people like her. Carefully, he released the tension from his muscles
and forced a smile onto his face.
"Erica," he said with as much sweetness as he could muster, "I think it's best for you to go
home. Make yourself a cup of tea, or sleep it off maybe."
Angered by his lack of empathy, Erica turned on her heel and stomped off. Fucking bastard,
she felt like saying. Underneath all that rage, however, was a hint of confusion. Something
wasn't right about his behaviour today, especially his cold demeanour nearing the end. Why
was he so eager for her to leave?
That's right, luv. Walk away. Fast as you can.
She was almost at the door when she felt him forcefully grabbing her shoulder, making her
freeze in her tracks. His hands felt icy cold against her skin... and for some reason, scaly.
Frightened, Erica tried to push his hand off, but his grip was so tight that it was impossible.
Her fear heightened with every passing second: What if he killed her? They were alone and he
seemed angry enough.
As she tried looking for means of escape, the temperature of the room began to drop, causing
the hairs on her arm to stand.
Chapter I

"And Erica?"
His voice sounded different, deep and growling, unlike that of a human.
Remain still, Erica.
Erica held her breath, she had never believed in God but in that moment she prayed. She prayed
for this to be another one of her nightmares, for someone to come in and save her, a divine
intervention, anything.
Don't kill me, please.
"I don't think that this needs saying," Charlie said coolly, his voice reverting back to its usual
state, "But make sure that you remember our little agreement."
---
They both sat in total silence, realising the gravity of the situation that they were in.
It was Charlie who broke the silence, carefully rolling a piece of parchment before putting it
away.
"I am able to withdraw treatment whenever I want. Because let's face it, you look like you're
on the verge of another relapse."
"But that's--" Erica began before he put his hand up, requesting her silence. She unwillingly
complied, unhappy with the way things were going.
"I only help those who help themselves, Erica." he said calmly, "And I can see another
attempt in your future. You're lucky that I agreed to help at all."
"In that case, I want out."
"You can't, you just signed the contract."
Charlie pulled the parchment out from behind his seat, waving it in her face. Her eyes
followed its motion, sending her into a tizzy. She could not recall signing anything, let alone
an important document.
"What?"
"Mortals never remember the contents of a contract. Or signing one for that matter." he
remarked disparagingly. He had little patience for mortals, none of them had ever proven
themselves useful. Not only were they self-serving but they were also co-dependent. A rather
unhealthy trait, he found.
"I will make an exception, I suppose," he sighed, once again putting the parchment away,
"For a price."
He waited for Erica's response but she remained silent, her brain still processing the
contract.
Impatient, he pressed on:
Chapter I

"These 'sessions' that I'm giving you is another chance at life. I'm freeing your soul from
limbo and letting you return to Earth, back to everything and everyone that you love. But if
you're willing to toss that away, I will have no choice but to hand your soul over to the gates.
Lucky for you, you ended up on my plane first. I'm more forgiving than most."
Charlie leaned forward, lightly pressing his finger against the middle of her forehead.
"So what will it be, Erica?"
Unblinkingly, she nodded. There was no way out of this, she had to cooperate. She got herself
into this mess, and she would get herself out.
He slowly pulled his hand away and went on with the terms, ignoring her odd behaviour.
"Once your soul returns, you won't remember anything from this exchange. Only that you're
seeing me for therapy."
She nodded again, she had rather forget her foolishness than relive it every single day. She
was about to move on when a question popped into her head.
"How am I going to get here if this isn't Earth?"
"Leave that part to me, you just focus on getting better." Charlie replied as he gave her a
reassuring smile.
"And the agreement?"
"Only when prompted, will you remember. It'll erase itself once you do."
"What good will that do?"
Charlie looked away, carefully crafting his answer. He didn't want to offend but he didn't
want to lie either. She needn't know that her suicide attempt brought her here.
"It's only there to keep you off the edge."
Erica wondered what he meant. She had thought about it from time to time but she never
acted on it. So what did he mean by ‘off the edge’? Had she done it? Was that why—
Her contemplation was disturbed when his door flung open on its own, alarming her.
"Now, go. I've got urgent matters to attend."
Charlie exhaled as he shut the door behind him.
It had been a long day for him and he was looking forward to heading home; if he could find
it, that is. Last he heard, Sathanus had it tucked away in a forbidden pocket universe. Emphasis
on the word 'forbidden'.
If only he had kept to himself that day, he'd be doing whatever it was that his heart desired;
listening to records, playing video games, reading. But instead he was stuck (secretly) dealing
with lost souls and running errands for the prince of Hell.
Complete the list, and the cycle will be broken. Procrastinate, and more will be added.
Chapter I

That was the promise that Sathanus had made to the newly born Charlie the day they first met.
Charlie, still naïve and unassuming at the time, had thought it would be fun and had agreed to
partake in his little game. It had been years since the game began and Charlie had yet to see the
finish line.
The list.
Speaking of, he felt an intense heat radiating from his pants, singeing his skin. Reaching into
his pocket, he pulled out a small piece of parchment and surely enough, another chore had been
added to the list. He could just imagine Sathanus lounging on his throne, laughing at his misery.
Damn him.
"I need a drink," Charlie declared after some thought.
He shoved the list back into his pocket as he slowly made his way towards the mini bar that
was behind the client's couch. He poured himself a much welcomed glass of Scotch, swirling
and sniffing it before taking a proper sip.
To heck with the list, I'll be damned if I do and damned if I don't anyway.
"She's gone," he announced, allowing himself another sip before leaning against the edge of
the bar.
Without much of a warning, a shadowy figure emerged out of thin air, silent and seething.
Charlie beckoned it to approach but it preferred to remain in the dark corner, dreading the
effects of sunlight.
Many referred to their kind as the Hat Men, genderless shadow demons that fed off the fears
of others. Not many could truly see them as they only appeared out of the corner of one's eye,
making them think that it was a trick of the light.
What took you so long?
"We're alone now," he replied nonchalant, "You don't have to worry about her. I doubt that
she'll be coming back now seeing your little trick scared her off."
Charlie could feel it scrutinizing him from head to foot, trying to catch him in a lie. There was
an unspoken law claiming that lying to a Hat Man was off limits, especially those prone to
violence.
"Something the matter?" he confidently took another sip, pretending not to notice.
Sathanus has given us a new task and we have yet to accomplish the old ones. Are you not
aware of the time constraints, John?
Charlie flinched at the name.
Being John was both a blessing and a curse as his given powers made him invincible, almost
omnipotent, in fact. He could do anything he wanted: warp realities, manipulate time, control
minds. Everything was within his grasp.
A hefty price came with it, however, violent deaths and eternal damnation to those he cared
for. Tried as he might, he could never bring them back. For once in his life, he felt mortal. It's
lonely, being a God.
He was more than happy to leave John behind.
Chapter I

"The name's Charlie." he cautioned as he placed his Scotch on the bar.
At a pace that can be called leisurely, he straightened up and crossed over to the window,
viewing the scenery. Sigh. The sight unnerved him, it was nothing but an empty wasteland.
And the sun wasn't any help either, it did nothing but burn his corneas.
"We should start making adjustments to the plane," he mused, making wave-like gestures with
his hands as if the outside was a painting of some sort, "It's too bright for my liking."
We don't have the time, John. Sathanus...
Charlie put his hand up to where the sun was and like a volume knob on the radio, turned it an
anti-clockwise direction. Slowly but surely, the sky began to darken, almost mirroring the night
sky.
"No, no," he shook his head, dissatisfied, "That's too dark. The humans will notice."
You claim to have left that world behind, John. But you use your powers still.
If you had learned to control it then, Melissa would still be alive and breathing.
Charlie froze, years of deep-seated anger creeping out from beneath his skin. The Hat Man had
crossed a line. Her death was not his doing, he was certain. She just happened to be in the way,
an unfortunate statistic.
Control it, control it.
The objects around him began to judder, emitting a loud noise that was almost deafening. He
closed his eyes and began to chant. Aequam servare mentem. He had to control his powers, he
had to.
Her death was on your hands, John. Do not deny it.
Aequam servare mentem. Aequam servare mentem. Aequam servare mentem.
He kept on chanting, ignoring its taunts. He had left that life behind, he was never going back.
Infinite powers, John! We could bring down Sathanus! We no longer have to do his bidding!
You know this, John!
"Charlie?"
A woman's voice made Charlie jump out of his skin. He opened his eyes and saw Josie's
reflection in the window. She was a virtual assistant that he had created out of pure boredom,
his own version of Siri.
Everything around them was unnaturally calm, no longer on the verge of exploding. Nothing
was broken, nobody was hurt... This had never happened before.
It was then that his head began to throb, sending him to his knees.
"Is everything alright, Charlie?"
"I'm fine, Josie," he rubbed his temples as he pushed himself up, "Just a headache. What brings
you here?"
"Eric is here to see you."
Eric?
Chapter I

"Eric," Charlie muttered "Erica's twin."
Another one of his clients, Eric, was a man with paranoid schizophrenia. He, too, stumbled into
Charlie's office. Another soul stuck in limbo. But unlike Erica, he came with a purpose: to
retrieve Erica and bring her back home.
In many ways, Eric reminded him of Melissa. Both helpless people with a need to help others,
fancying themselves heroes. At times he found it endearing, at most times irritating. What
appealed to him most though, was Eric's feeling of isolation.
Melissa would have wanted me to help.
The first time Eric had come looking for him, Charlie had taken the chance to modify his
memory, making him think he was there for therapy instead of searching for Erica. Deep down
he knew that it was a selfish move, but this was his only chance to atone for his sins.
He thought of turning Eric away, worried that he might lose control again.
Fuck.
I've never come across such kindness in my life. Except for my sister, of course.
He was finding it harder and harder to turn them down the longer he remained. It's because
they're needy, unreliable creatures that shouldn't be left unattended, he would repeatedly tell
himself.
"Send him in," he grumbled, waving Josie away.
"Very well."
As she turned to walk away, Charlie noticed the shadowy figure skulking away from his corner,
gliding towards Josie. Knowing of its malicious intent, he quickly flicked his wrist, slamming
the door shut in its face.
"Don't even think about it."
She has seen too much.
"You know that we can't get rid of her," he argued as he plopped down on his seat, "Besides,
who will she tell? There's hardly anyone here."
I will if you won't.
Charlie pondered his threat. He knew that his companion meant business. That it'd even kill a
child when push came to shove. Better he than it, he concluded. If he took over, he could reboot
her systems at the very least.
"I'll handle it once the day is done." he offered.
You've gotten soft for these humans, John.
"No, I haven't." he denied, hastily plastering a fake smile on his face when he heard the door
open.
Chapter I

"Dr. Stevens?" Eric called, poking his head through the door. He took a careful look around
the office and did a double take when he saw a dark figure slinking back into the corner of the
room.
"Come on in, Eric," Charlie insisted as he took note of Eric's expression "Make yourself
comfortable."
There's nothing there, mate, trick of the light.
Not now, voices, Eric shook his head, taking a seat on the couch. Not today.
He kept turning towards the corner, actively searching for the figure. He could've sworn that
he saw something there.
"Everything alright, Eric?" Charlie enquired, pulling him out of his reverie.
I would keep my mouth shut if I were you.
You might be wrong, he's here to help.
"This might be the schizophrenia talking," Eric hesitated before answering, "But there's
someone standing in the corner of your office."
He pointed towards the corner, hoping that the doctor could see what he saw.
"Is there?" Charlie raised his eyebrow, acting bemused, "Have you been taking your
medication, Eric?"
Eric began to panic. He had been taking his medication. Maybe it was a trick of the light, he
convinced himself. He didn't want to disappoint Dr. Stevens, they had made a lot of progress
this past year. It would be upsetting if he were to relapse.
Lie.
"I'm sorry, Dr. Stevens," he stuttered, avoiding eye contact, "I've been working nights, lately.
I was probably tired."
That's a good lad.
"It's quite alright, Eric," Charlie smiled, leaning back in his seat, "Now let's begin, shall we?”
Chapter I