Agoraphobic: An abnormal fear of open or public places.

It was a bitterly cold morning, the sunset painting the sky. As he looked out the window from his confinement, he contemplated what it would be like to be free, wondered how his life would change; if he was the same as all the other children that he longed to be like. The only visible light was coming through the slightly open window. He watched the dust spiralling up to the ceiling in the gentle bathing of light. He smelled the faint scent of fresh bread, the delicate smell of roses, and the gas of cars.

As soon as he heard the footsteps he started to shake; the irrational fear had overwhelmed his desires once again. The illegible scribble of pictures filled his head, some he knew as flashbacks from his past, and some that scared him more than anything he had ever experienced.

He rocked back and forth, screaming, at a mere attempt to get the thoughts out of his head. A part of him that was still partially sane was questioning, did he wanted to humiliate himself again? Of course, he didn’t care. Even in his daze he noticed the vague shape of people coming in, that surrounded him. In the distance, he heard the harsh voice somewhere in the room echo ‘Inject him’. He panicked, feeling the sudden rush of air as they swarmed around him and their warm breath as they leaned in closer. His throat started to close over. He gasped for a lungful of air and started to feel dizzy, calmer, sleepy, sleepier, asleep…

He had fond memories of playing soccer and other sports, he was a grade A student at a private college; heading for the honour role. He was extremely popular, not one person had a problem with the boy. He had a girlfriend, they didn’t leave each others side. They were planning to get engaged after they had graduated. There were no signs of abuse at home that anyone could recognise. His doting parents had become dissatisfied with the ‘excuses’ doctors had been giving them. Nobody had been able to come up with a plausible answer to why their son had turned out this way, which is why they sent him here, to this establishment. They hoped that he would return, the boy they had known for seventeen years, not the psychotic little boy that had started to develop.

Surprisingly he could not express how he felt; there was something that lay deep within that snapped at the slightest thing, not even he could decipher the puzzle. It disturbed him, no matter how many times this occurred, he was not one step closer to figuring out the cause. He didn’t like it how he was continually monitored, dosed up on medication… he felt like a lab rat.

When he woke up, he found himself in a strange room. He looked around and noticed the starch white walls. It was funny how he noticed that first. There were no pictures on the wall and this just added to the hostility of the place. As he became more consciously aware of his surroundings, he sat up. Right in front of him, was a large cedar desk, with nothing but a single folder on it. He had to resist the temptation to look inside.

A lady entered the room silently, with the poise of a stalking wolf. He would not have noticed her come in if it wasn’t for the almost inaudible creak of the opening door. He looked at her with fear; he had not seen her before. She looked at him, her eyes penetrating his soul and sending a peculiar shiver down his spine. He hugged himself tight as she walked towards him, her high heels making a thud with each step and stood in front of him with such importance. She looked him up and down like she was judging him. The essence of her presence was unnerving. She opened her mouth and said ‘Do not be afraid Christopher’ while at the same time stepping out of his comfort zone. ‘I am here to help you, you can trust me, I know very well what you are going through’ she seemed like she could be trusted, but he could not be too certain. She turned her back to him and walked back to the desk, sitting down with such grace.
She had long, dark hair that spiralled at the ends and her eyes; he had never seen such green eyes before. Just as before, they still seemed to bury themselves deep into his spirit, searching through his past and his present. Her eyes were kind enough, but he still could not trust her, he did not trust anyone. He wanted to ask so many questions, tell her everything, but he hadn’t talked for a very long time. He wondered if he could still manage a noise, let alone string a sentence together. An unintelligible noise came out his mouth and she looked at him curiously. ‘Christopher, what is it that you want to say to me?’ she questioned ‘I understand that you have not talked for a while, but you can find it inside yourself, I know that it is there’

He didn’t like it how they expected him to answer them, how they asked him questions that even he could not understand, or come up with an answer for. They patronised him, tested him, and judged him. He just nodded in agreement with her. He knew he could talk, he just didn’t want to. He didn’t want to show them his weakness…


Emily Perry

Victor Harbor, Australia

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Not quite finished.
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