There was a fish in the aquarium that attacked every other fish by pushing them away. It went round and round bulling all the other smaller ones, as if it had nothing better to do. None dared oppose it, moving out of its way and pretending they didn't exist.
Myra wondered how terrible their life must have been, being trapped inside such a small cage with a monster in their midst.
“Seven.” The line broke between her ears and the woman across the desk held up a piece of paper outstretched in the air as if it were a presentation of a child’s art.
She never thought it would come down to seven. Nine would have been a better number for such a thing, nice and round.
It was raining again, and the open window made the sound of water that more inciting. It felt as though the doctor's office was floating somewhere inside a deep ocean, unbound to any shore or conscious thought.
“Are you alright Miss Tamon?” the woman in white spoke again breaking down the paper wall between them.
“Yes,” Myra returned as the ringing in her ears made all else sound the same. She did not know why her feet felt so nimble like she’d just stared down from the top of a building and into the abyss.
“Are you certain?”
“We’ll need to do more tests, but the severity of your condition is not something I’d wish to overlook. Tell me, have there been any developments regarding your memories from last winter?”
“No. It’s still pretty much the same gaping hole as it’s always been,” Myra returned coldly. She kept perfectly still in her chair, fearing that if she moved, she would reveal some hidden symptom she wasn't ready to know about.
“And how’s your sleep? Have the pills helped?”
“A bit. I get about four hours of decent sleep before it starts.” Some uninvited pain in her jaw made her twitch her face and look for a glass of water she hadn’t touched since she arrived. The cold seemed to help soothe the pain but it remained in the form of an unpleasant sensation.
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“We’ll have to do better.” The doctor fixed her glasses and rolled the pen between her fingers. She then scribbled something in her notes and looked Myra in the eye. “Do the nightmares persist?
“Yes,” Myra returned averting her gaze. Something inside her did not want to admit to such a revealing fact.
“The fallen trees, the laughing woman and the monument of red stone,” the doctor said following the handwritten lines from an older session. “Is it still the same?”
“Yes. It’s always the same, no matter how many times you ask me that question,” Myra leaned in as if confrontation was the best way to deal with the fact she was suffering.
“And what about other symptoms? Have you had any hallucinations? Voices?”
“Not in years,” she said, suddenly remembering the night in the park, and the shadows speaking into her ears. “But... there is one thing, though.”
“What is it?”
“I’ve had these headaches. Not like before. These were much stronger like iron pins being pushed into my skull. They come rarely and go away quickly, usually when I’m stressed. Could this be another symptom of the same disease?”
“It is quite possible, yes. I’ll schedule another examination this week just to be sure. But, we can’t exclude the the fact that you’ve suffered psychological trauma as well. It is a different kind of wound, and it hasn’t healed yet.”
“Why do you think it matters then, after you’ve told me my days may be numbered? What are headaches and nightmares compared to losing yourself to oblivion?”
The doctor sighed, took off her glasses and set her notes aside. She pushed herself away from her desk and poured two glasses of some strong brandy she had in the cupboard.
“Let’s pretend this is water, even if it costs me my job,” she said in a serious tone and handed a glass over to Myra. “I’ll be honest with you because that’s the only right thing to do here. I’ve never seen a case like yours. Not once. I’ve spoken to my colleagues as well, and they had the same conclusion. When I say seven, what I really mean is that seven is my most optimistic wish. I cannot tell you how long, and I cannot even tell you it time is the greatest factor here. Your brain… your mind is going through a change, it is being altered as we speak. Simply put, no matter how long it takes, it will change you until you can no longer recognize yourself. And I cannot do anything about it, because there simply is no cure for something like this. We will slow it down, but at the end of that road, the same fate will await you.” She downed the glass and put it back in the drawer like nothing ever happened.
“Thank you,” Myra said with a wide, natural smile. She was finally faced with the truth she never saw coming, but it would take yet some time for her to truly feel its weight. For all she cared at that moment, there was still some unfinished business waiting for her.
"You shouldn't have gone back in the field, Myra. I made a terrible mistake listening to them. I am sorry."
“I’ll be seeing you around doctor," Myra said waving back at Dr Litten as she was leaving. "I've never been that lucky," she whispered and disappeared through the door.