I'm Your Boogeyman

October 9, 2013

A/N: Treated myself to one of the two Stephen Kings books I promised myself I would never finish. I love Stephen King, but The Green Mile always makes me cry. Why I chose to get that one is beyond me. Hey, at least it's not Cujo. I don't think I could make it through the first chapter, now that my dad has spoiled the ending.

You had moved your chair over to the window and watched people going up and down the street, and watched a dog (that you recognized to be tlhe dog that your next-door neighbors had) take a nap on the Smith's Grove lawn. You were jealous of the dog. He was out, living his best life, and you were stuck in here, living... well, you weren't having fun. The dog was, and you were jealous.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. A man stepped into the room with a binder, a notebook, and a pen. "Hello, Ms. Y/N?" He asked, looking at his clipboard.

"Who else would I be?" You sighed. "What do you want?"

"Just checking. I'm Doctor Jason Meed. I prefer to just be called Jason, though. What do you prefer to be called?" He asked, sitting down on the end of the bed.

"Y/N."

"Alright. So, I'm your psychiatrist. Today, I'm just going to get to know you and do a psychological exam. I do have basic information on you, but the protocol to make sure it's correct, okay?"

"Yep."

"Are you Y/A (Your age)?"

"Yes."

"Is your birthday Y/B (Your birthday)?"

"Mmm-Hmm."

"Are you Y/W (Your weight)?"

"Last time I checked."

He went through some more questions, and you kept getting more and more bored. At this point, every time Jason stopped talking, you'd just give some form of vocal conformation and move on."

"Okay, so, for the exam, I'm going to test for some psychological disorders, so if I could have you come with me to my office, that'd be preferred, because I don't want to drag you there." James stood up and tucked his things under his arm.

"I'll go peacefully, but you won't find anything wrong with me." You mumbled, standing and following James through the very confusing and winding halls. The walls were very bleak, and the paint color was probably labeled as 'Sad Clown' at the paint store.

After a while, Sam approached a door and opened it. The walls were a similar color to the halls, but it was probably called 'Mediocre, Over-priced Clown'.

"If you would, lay down on the table. I'll be right back."

______________________

"Odd. I didn't find anything wrong." James mumbled to himself, looking over the results.

"That's not odd because there's nothing wrong with me." You replied. "I keep trying to tell people that."

"Hmm. Well, I've got some more patients to see today. I'll walk you back to your room- unless you'd like to go to the library- and after I see my other patients, I'll give Hoffman my professional opinion."

"Thank you. And, yes, I'd like to go to the library." You stood from the table, rubbing your back. Those tables were meant to cause arthritis and the entirety of everyone who ever laid down on one at the doctor's office would agree.

James walked you over to the library, which was fairly empty. Not with books, it had plenty of books, but of people. Did nobody in this joint like to read?

"Ask the librarian, Ms. Lowe, to call for someone to walk you back when you're finished." James left you at that.

You wandered around the shelves for a while, trying to find something to read. Pride and Prejudice didn't sound appeasing at the time, and neither did Frankenstein. The Outsiders, IT, Matilda, and The War That Saved My Life didn't appease you, so you simply picked up a book and brought it over to Ms. Lowe.

"Ready to check out, dear?" She asked.

Ms. Lowe was an older lady who looked like she would beat death with a broom if he tried to take her. Her wrinkled skin was both loose and tight, and her eyes had sunken so far back into her head that you were surprised you could see them at all. She was a twig of an old lady, and she couldn't have been more that five-foot-five.

You nodded.

"You know, it's been so long since I've been able to talk to a child. No one to tell my stories to, since I never had any children. Speaking of, you look quite young to be here. If you don't mind my asking, why are you here?" She inquired, scanning the book.

"I don't know." Was your reply, weighed down with a sigh so heavy that Santa Claus looked like he was a professional body builder.

"Oh. Well, here's your book. I'll call for somebody to come get you." Ms. Lowe pressed a buzzer on her side of the desk. "Guard to library. Guard to library, please."

Soon enough, Terry walked through the door. Both of you grumbled inaudibly.

"Thank you, Mr. Fortis!" Ms. Lowe called to Buff the Magic Dragon as he took you by the arm and led you out of the library.

Terry turned and smiled at Ms. Lowe, before turning his face out of his line of sight and his signature scowl was plastered right on top of the smile.

"Are you going to throw a fit this time?" He grumbled.

"Depends. Are you going to act like a Chad?" You remarked.

Terry bonked you on the head with his open palm. It wasn't a hard smack, but more like a heavy tap. It didn't hurt, but you didn't have a good first impression of Terry, and your second impression wasn't any better. So, you played Count Olaf.

"Ow!" You burst into tears and pulled your arm out of his iron grip. His grip was actually hurting you, and it was hard to pry your arm from his grip, as he kept tightening it, so you had a reason to cry out in pain.

Terry stood, shocked. There went his employment, and you could see a possible lawsuit in his future.

"What's happened?" James ran out of his office, which you happened to be standing in front of. "Fortis, what happened?"

"I- She's- It was-" He stammered. He'd been caught with his hand in the jar, and he didn't know what to do.

"Oh, never mind; you're useless. Y/N, what's happened?" James placed a hand on your shoulder and bent down to your level, as he was quite the tall man.

"He hit my head!" You cried. Were you being dramatic? Yes. But, you had no reason to be in this place, and yet everybody believed you did, and you were upset about the whole thing.

James stood and grabbed Terry by his collar. "You're coming with me."

James walked you back to your room, and you began to 'calm down'. In reality, the pain in your arm was fading, and your head no longer hurt, but they didn't know that. James promised he'd come back and check in on you after he dealt with, quote, 'This plaster-eating ape' and shut the door to your room.

You ceased all tears and signs of pain. Man, that drama club was useful.