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Here is this Friday's Chapter Reveal from Slumber ©Christy Sloat
Chapter 2
Dr. Altman
“The patient seems to
be developing more symptoms. Her dreams are showing no improvement. May need to
look into her medication and alter it slightly—”
“Dr. Altman?”
“Dr. Altman?”
Dr. Altman hit stop
on his recorder as a nurse walked into his office.
“Ah, Nurse Mary, how
can I help you?” he asked the nervous nurse standing in his doorway. She bit
her lip as she opened the door further.
“I’m just checking on
Rory’s progress. I was sent by the director,” she informed him.
He swiveled his chair
around, looking out onto the grounds below. He had been working for the Spindle
Ridge Asylum for one year now, and he was constantly asked about certain
patients by the director. It’s a part of his job he was used to, yet normal
routine would be the director waiting until he was done with his reports. He
would then hand deliver them to the director and wait for her to schedule a
meeting. This director had more say, an annoying approach. After each session
with a patient, either Nurse Mary or one of the other many nurses came to his
office and interrupted his recording sessions.
“Doctor, did I come
at a bad time again?” Mary asked. She knew how impatient he could be. She stood
there waiting for his reply.
Finally he turned his
chair and stood up. He walked to Mary and patted her on the shoulder. “No. I’ll
go to the director myself, Mary. Save you a trip.” Accordingly, he walked out
the door and up the flight of stairs leading to the director’s office, leaving
a confused Mary in his wake.
He reached the door
of the director of the asylum. Her office sat on the top floor overlooking the
ocean view that sits just outside the asylum walls. She, by far, had the best
view of the place; even better than his view of the gardens. He knew she was
unprepared for his arrival, but he knocked anyway.
“Come in, Mary, you
idiot—” She stopped short seeing Dr. Altman at the door. “Oh, I am terribly
sorry, Dr. Altman. Do come in.”
Dr. Malisa Fenwick,
or Dr. M for short, was a tall woman with raven black hair that she kept pulled
so tight that he feared for the safety of her eyes. She smiled at him. It was always
a disturbing smile, never quite reaching her eyes.
“I came about my session with Rory; you wanted
to know about it. So instead of sending nurses to my office, I will come to
you,” he said matter-of-factly. “I feel it’s better this way.”
Her smile faded fast,
and she nodded her head motioning for him to take a seat. He did but kept his
eyes steady with hers. Dr. Altman was not scared of Dr. M, not for a second.
The staff may flitter around her like scared little children, but he was a man
of science and would not be intimidated by her.
“Well?” she said
impatiently.
“Rory’s progress is
slow. I can tell you that much right now. I was in the middle of my recordings
when I was interrupted by Mary. I was going to give you the full report after
lunch,” he explained.
“Peter, let’s be
frank, shall we?” she asked even though she really didn’t want an answer. “Just
tell me what your suggestion is.”
She sat back into her plush, white leather
chair. It matched all the other pure white furniture in her office.
“Okay then, I think
you have an unhealthy obsession with my patient,” he blurted. “You can’t wait
for my official report, ever. It’s not fair to me as a doctor and it’s unfair
to the patient.”
Dr. M stood fast, her
chair flying out from behind her. She was mad and that anger had no problem
reaching her eyes. They flared with hatred for him as he sat in front of her.
“How dare you come in
here and diagnose me! You know what that girl did! I am merely keeping track of
her progress. Progress that she is apparently not making, according to you.”
Dr. M stopped, took a deep breath and continued. “I’m afraid that if you can’t
make some sort of progress with that girl within two weeks’ time, I will be
asking you to step down as her doctor. Do you understand?”
She said this as
calmly as she could.
Dr. Altman’s face
turned red with fury.
“You’d take her away
from me after all this time? Do you know what that would do to her? What that
would do to me? She trusts me!” he shouted.
“Dr. Altman, I’m not
worried about her missing you when you’re no longer her doctor. I am, however,
worried about whether or not she starts remembering why she is here in Spindle
Ridge. It’s detrimental that the girl gets better and understands what she did
to land herself here.”
“This is not a jail,
Malisa. This is a hospital for the criminally insane. She doesn’t need to
remember the awful things she did. She just needs to understand that what she
did was criminal and the difference between right and wrong.”
“And you have two
weeks to get her to do so. Now, Peter, leave my office and never come here
unannounced again,” she said as she fixed her skirt and recovered her chair.
“I’ll do my best,
Malisa.”
Just before he slammed her door he heard her
say, “You’ll do your best or you’ll be sorry.”
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