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Thirteen by Nina Auril, Abby Gale (3)

 

Avalon

 

“Do you have nightmares, Avalon?” the doctor asks me.

I look at her and the only thing I can think of is how ordinary she looks. She’s so boring. Who wears a suit? Especially, a beige one?

Is beige even a color? It doesn’t have any characteristic, like it couldn’t decide if it wanted to be a white or brown or maybe even yellow.

Doctor Brown. I snort. Even her last name is boring.

She has dull brown eyes, straight brown hair in a boring ponytail, and a soulless face.

“Avalon?” she tries to get my attention, like she deserves to get it.

I sigh.

“What?”

“Do you have nightmares?”

I look around her room. Wooden desk, wooden bookshelf, and wooden chairs. Uncomfortable, tasteless, colorless… boring. Just like her.

“Yes,” I finally answer, hoping maybe my time in here will be shorter if I just answer her stupid questions.

“What are they about?”

“Do you have nightmares, Doctor Brown?” I ask.

She frowns. “Yes. Sometimes.”

“What are they about?” I mimic her lifeless voice.

She clears her throat, maybe noticing how stupid her question sounds. “They change. The things I’m afraid of or the things that upset me,” she answers. “Are yours about the things that upset you Avalon? Like your friend's death?”

Is that a cruel glint in her eyes?

She hates me.

She wants to kill you, Avy. My dad whispers in my head.

Stupid boring bitch.

I glare at her.

“Do you want to talk about what happened that night, Avalon? Maybe we can start from that point?”

I look at her neck. She has a thin neck. It would be easy to wrap my hands around it and strangle her. I wonder if her tedious face will show any hint of liveliness then.

“He’s not my friend,” I murmur, still focused on her neck. “He came to kill me.”

“Why do you think he would do such thing, Avalon?”

I glare at her again before focusing back on the faint thumping under her ear. “My daddy told me.”

She takes a breath like she’s trying to say something, but exhales slowly, changing her mind.

“Does your dad talk to you often?” she asks.

“Of course. My daddy protects me.”

She frowns for a moment. “Is your dad the only one who talks to you?”

I snort. “Of course, who else should I be talking to?”

“What about your mom?”

My foot starts tapping nervously on the floor. “My mom doesn’t speak to me. She left us the day she killed herself.”

“What does your dad say to you? How do you know it’s him?”

“He calls me Avy.” I smile to myself, remembering the nickname he always called me.

Her beady eyes look at me like I’m ridiculous before asking, “Do you see your dad, Avalon? Or does he only speak to you? Is there any vision of him?”

I bow my head and look at my hands. “No. I don’t see him. I only hear his voice.”

“According to the report your dad is dead, Avalon,” she says. Right now I want to stab her because of that accusing tone of hers.

“What are you trying to say?” I grit out.

“I'm saying maybe you're confused?”

I stand up. Hitting her desk with all my strength. “My dad isn't dead. He talks to me. And he hates you. I hate you too, you stupid, boring bitch” I yell at her.

I lean over to grab her so I can hit her ridiculous face on her desk, but before I can do anything guards hold me down.

Kill them, Avy. Kill all of them. 

“I'll kill you. I'll kill all of you!”

“Crazy bitch,” one of the guards laughs like I'm putting on a show for his sick pleasure as they haul me toward my room.

I hit, I yell, but these fuckers are strong.

One of them throws me onto my bed and the other puts a syringe to my arm.

“I’m not sick,” I murmur my protest against numbness that takes control of my body.

I know what everyone thinks about my mental situation very well. They think I’m a damn schizophrenic. My dad was telling me the same thing before he died. He said it was a curse I got from my mother.

Like mother, like daughter it seems.

But -when a guard spreads my legs, to touch me there, I know these people are the real monsters, these are the ones who should be damned.

I search my mind to hear my dad’s voice. There's a soft whisper, telling me to kill him, but whatever they have given me takes my strength.

I'm sleepy.

He keeps touching me. But I don't feel a thing.

I'll kill him later.

Right now, I just want to sleep.

I promise, I'll kill him later, Daddy.

 

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