I'm a Therapist, and My Patient is Going to be the Next School Shooter by Dr Harper

Author:Dr Harper
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780578453040
Publisher: Dr. Harper Therapy
Published: 2019-01-27T05:00:00+00:00

PART TWO

“Why is it always your house, Elliot?”

Officer Donahue made his way into my kitchen after searching the woods.

“It’s not like I want these visitors,” I snapped.

“Well, we’ve searched the entire premises, and there’s no sign of anyone,” he said. “And certainly nothing on your lawn to indicate The Zombie killer was here eating someone–”

“Then what the hell was it eating?” I pressed, irritated that he wasn’t taking me seriously. “There had to be something – some sort of food at least.”

“Listen, we can check again in the morning,” he said with a slight smirk. “But I promise you there wasn’t any human flesh on your lawn. Maybe all those crazies are finally getting to your head?”

“Oh, fuck you,” I muttered under my breath.

“Excuse me?”

“I was just saying ‘thank you’.” I smiled back. “Now, it’s late. I better be getting to sleep.”

“Alright, doctor…” he said with an eye roll. “Have a good night.”

I let him out the front door and double checked my locks from my phone (the whole system is digital).

Then I called Noah for the fifth time that night.

“Answer your goddamn phone, Noah.”

Voicemail again. Where the hell was he?

I gave up and then called Howard and Jane’s home. This was another one of my not-so-ethical moments, but give me a break, the adrenaline was still surging.

“Hello?” It was Jane.

“Jane,” I said. “This is Dr. Harper. I think I just received a visit from your husband.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Someone was out on my lawn, eating something,” I said. “It reminded me a lot of Howard’s nightmares. And that Zombie guy all over the news.”

“What– What are you implying?”

“I’m implying that I strongly recommend you both come in for an appointment tomorrow morning,” I said. “Or I’ll have no choice but to share my suspicions with the authorities. Everyone in town will hear the police sirens at your house.”

“Are you– Are you blackmailing us into coming to therapy?”

“Not blackmail,” I said. “Just a strong recommendation.”

I hung up the phone and made my way up to bed. My mind was still going a million miles an hour. By 3am, my brain finally surrendered to my body’s exhaustion.

But as I drifted to sleep, I was plagued by dreams of a hooded figure… kneeling over Noah… and tearing out his stomach.

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