I Need a Doctor | By : Jinx-Lyric Category: 1 through F > Doctor Who Views: 2285 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own doctor who or any of the characters that appear in the series, furthermore I make no money from the writing or publishing of this fanfiction |
"I was uncomfortable in that uniform, always was. The shirts were always tight on my chest and around my arms and I always had to fasten my trousers with safety pins. When you're from a poor family you can't afford to update your clothes often and I had to keep my clothes until they began to tear or were too small to even put on. It was never my parents’ fault, if anything it was mostly mine but either way it was never pleasant. I got in trouble often for coming to school in casual wear when I couldn't fit into my uniform because they'd gotten too small. I got bullied a lot, even before it was evident that I couldn't afford new clothes. I still don't know why, but it got a lot worse, obviously." I mumbled the last word as I sat slouched in my seat. My back ached from sitting there for too long, my long black hair tickled the back of my hands which rested uncomfortably on my lap, I looked down at them, the jet blackness of my hair was in direct contrast with my almost porcelain skin, I’m sure it was the same with my dark eyes, whose reflection I caught as I turned to gaze out of the window, I could feel the doctors eyes burning into me; I hated eye contact so I avoided it and stared at my reflection in the window, shocking even myself at how uncomfortable and bemused I looked. My fringe had gotten long, I had a box fringe that now almost covered my eyes so that only the bottom of my dark eyes were visible, a shadow was cast over my nose from the fringe making me look ever so shady. I’d bothered doing my make-up today which was out of character for me, or at least for me when I’m only attending a session. Obviously the doctor picked up on this when I entered and bothered me about it for at least fifteen minutes, it’s amazing how changing your lip colour to a shade similar to dark red wine can excite a psychiatrist to the extent it did, thank god she didn’t notice my dark eye-shadow, she’d have a field day. One thing they always liked to pick at was how I dressed that day, so you can imagine what they thought when they realized all I wore was black, I don’t do it because I’m depressed, even though I am, I do it because I don’t like colour or look good in it and I just like the gothic style, but they don’t get that; walk in one day in a pair of platform boots and ripped fishnets and your subject to mental probing for the next hour. The doctor in front of me frowned and scribbled on her clipboard. I hated counselors, hated them. Their stony features their blatant lack of any humor, yet I was forced to attend. I don't know how many times I had to repeat the same stories to them over and over. I sat up in my seat and folded one leg over the other. "Kids can be so cruel" She said whilst still scribbling on her clipboard. I scoffed, she was supposed to be a professional psychologist yet she was mumbling about it like it was just a normal school yard tiff. She made it seem like some loud mouthed stupid kid had skipped past me one day and called me smelly and it had landed me in these meetings until I was 21, she just couldn't grasp how much it had screwed me up. "Cruelty isn't the word in my opinion." I mumbled, not thinking. They loved this; they loved when you played with words, when you chose one rather than another. They thought it would tell them everything about you, I often try not to give them the bait but sometimes it slips. "Oh?" she began, biting right down on the hook "what word would you use Lily?" she put her clipboard face down on her laps and folded her hands over it looking at me over her glasses, brushing her frizzy red hair behind her ear. I sighed and rolled my eyes "There isn't one." I shuffled up in my seat again having slid into a slouch again. "Shall I continue or are we done for today?" I brushed my fringe back and she glanced at me over her glasses. "That’s enough for today I think, thank you Lily." I got up sighing and smoothed out my clothes "It's a pleasure as always." I said sarcastically and excused myself. I know it might seem like I'm being unreasonably rude but for five years I've spend my Friday nights in this same room, at this same time, with a different person every single week! It works in a loop, a different doctor every week for about ten weeks, then back to doctor one who asks about my progress and I have to tell them, absolutely nothing. They all ask about my story, which takes a full meeting and rather than passing on the notes to the next doctor in the cycle I'm pretty sure they just chuck them in the bin so when the next doctor comes along THEY then need to know my story. After so many sessions, they've barely even scratched the surface. I swung my bag over my shoulder and headed out of the door of the clinic and began walking down the street. I took my phone out and started looking through my calendar. No plans until Monday when I have work. In all good honesty I didn't really care that my sessions were on a Friday afternoon, I had no friends to spend them with. It was just something I could complain about, I don't excessively complain with everything, just counseling for reasons which I have already explained. To me, those meetings are pointless, and they might work for some people but after five years they haven’t for me and I know that the doctors know that, but they still make me go. I was institutionalized when I was sixteen and put under around the clock suicide watch, for reasons which should be fairly obvious. I noticed there was nobody on the streets so I checked my watch, ten past. It was getting close to the 'ghost hour' I rolled my eyes and continued on my journey a couple of months ago these things started showing up, shadowy figures that looked a little like people. Everyone started to get excited about it, everyone but me. I've never lost anyone; really you can't lose what you never had. The whole affair almost made me wish I had lost someone, so I could be excited about something, like everyone else. I lowered my eyes, as they appeared I tried not to see them; not because of fear but because of envy. Envy of them and envy of the people they came for. I walked through a field outside of the Powell Estate; I lived in a small flat there. Nothing glamorous, not even something average. It was pretty tiny and dingy but I couldn't afford to decorate or move. I hated my job, it was depressing, boring with shitty pay but not many people want to hire a recently 'released' lunatic. I had my head buried in a game I'd downloaded onto my phone, a good start to the weekend I'd spend playing the Xbox alone in my flat, there’s no denying it. My existence is a sad, lonely one. I was half way through the field when I stopped after my train of thought came to a devastating crash. I’d been thinking about my job, my home, my life. I thought about how much I’d hated everything for so many years how miserable I was with my day to day life and how unlikely it was I would ever make something of myself. Again, who wants to hire a lunatic? I dropped my gaze, I knew I was just standing in the middle of a field, with no one but those shadowy beings orbiting me, I must have looked odd, but it didn’t matter to me. I looked at one of the ghosts; there was no negativity about it, no concern, no regret, and no sadness. I envied it so much. I was thinking, why was I still here? Really, why? Have no family or friends, hardly any money, I so really, what was the point? It occurred to me then, why did I think I was compelled to go to those meetings? I was a twenty one year old woman it was my choice, but why did it take me this long to realize it? Why has it taken me this long to realize my life is in my own hands? Because doctor after doctor has been telling me over and over for five years that it’s ‘naughty’? Suddenly I felt enraged, my fists clenched and my heart began racing. I’d become brainwashed by those doctors and only now am I coming back to myself. I suddenly felt as if I’d been tricked, as if I was lead to believe I was someone’s friend and equal, only having been manipulated into slavery and kept in an invisible cage. They’d began controlling me as a patient, making me believe my suicidal tendencies were gone when really they just made me bury it deep within me, made my thoughts so shallow I wouldn’t find myself thinking of it anymore. I clutched my head, I felt violated, and for a moment it physically felt like there was a parasitic worm squirming through my thoughts placed there by those doctors. But none of it worked. I pulled my purse out of my bag in a sudden rush; I opened it and counted quickly what was left of my pay. Not a lot. I remember that money was supposed to be for bills and rent but after today none of that would matter because at that moment, I’d decided I didn’t want to be a part of this world anymore. I turned on my heels and began walking fast, almost running. I could no longer see anything around me, I was almost entranced. I made my way to the local chemist, the ghosts began to fade, it had only been two minutes since they appeared and so much had passed through my mind. I walked into the chemists and bought as many bottles of sleeping pills as the chemist would allow, then headed to the supermarket and bought as many there as the employees there would allow, by the end of it I’d bought about twenty bottles, I didn’t know if I was being excessive or not, I just didn’t want to wake up. I looked in my purse once more, obviously I’d used up most of my money but there was just enough left for the one thing I wanted and needed most, a bottle of vodka. After my purchases I walked home, my bag bashing my leg as I hurried. I was oddly excited, I couldn’t wait yet half way home as I came to the huge field I began crying silently. I made no noise but tears came, first slowly but then more and more followed and they began to flow freely and quickly. Kept my head down so if someone was passing they wouldn’t see. I wasn’t embarrassed; I was just worried some kind soul would stop me out of concern. I didn’t want any more time to think about it. I had made up my mind. As I was nearing the end of the field it had gotten to the point where I’d zoned out completely and was on auto pilot. Not paying attention to where I was going I thumped into something and fell, my bag leaving my hands as I did. I wouldn’t have fallen if I was paying attention, but the shock literally knocked me back. I gasped looking up noticing the object I’d bumped into was a young woman, a young woman who looked like she was in the middle of something important. I felt an awful pang of guilt and shame as her and her two friends looked at me. I recognized the young woman and her mother, they lived not far from me and I went to school with her unfortunately their names escaped me, she wasn’t one of the kids that bullied me, she was actually really quiet. She had shoulder length blond hair and dark eyes; she was dressed casually and looked friendly. Her mother just looked like an older version of her daughter, her hair was damaged from bleaching and was pulled back into a ponytail unlike her daughter her eyes were a blue/green shade and her face was tired from age, she looked extremely bemused, I hoped I wasn’t to blame for that. As for the strange man with them, I couldn’t define his features from where I was, I’m short sighted and he was quite a distance away, I could make out dark hair and as he came closer I noticed dark eyes. I stammered as I got to my knees and began scooping my items back into my bag, I sniffed and tried to discreetly wipe my eyes. “I’m so, so sorry. I-I wasn’t watching where I was going. I- I’ll just get out of your way… sorry…”
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo