The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

She’s Safe There
by Melissa R. Mendelson 

I felt like I was sitting in a principal’s office, small and cluttered.  Dying plants decorated one windowsill, stacks of dusty books on the other one.  A bookcase up against the wall filled with texts, statistics, diagnoses, all according to society.  The desk had stacks of paperwork and folders, one filled to the brim and all about me.

She sat back in her squeaky chair, nodding, barely smiling, but always scratching away on that notepad.  She only made eye contact when I was quiet for too long.  Her eyes occasionally darted to the wall clock over the door, noting the time.

My ass was falling asleep in the metal chair.  Why did my seat have to be so uncomfortable, but it was the spotlight without the light.  I could cross my arms and maybe even my legs, but she would point out that I was being defensive.  Maybe, I was because I didn’t want to be here, but I was stuck with these appointments while this woman sat there and judged me.

I learned to say the right words, and sometimes, she would point out that I was telling her what I thought she wanted her to hear.  I peeled the onion away, layer by layer, and she seemed satisfied with that.  How long have I been coming here?

I was almost done peeling the layers away, but I would be damned to give this woman the core.

“I think we’re almost done here,” she said.  “Do you feel any better?”

I glanced past her.  “Yes, I think I do feel better.”

“Do you see a need to continue with me?”  She shifted in her seat, forcing me to meet her gaze.

I looked at her and smiled.  I knew what I had to do.  “No, I think I will be okay.”

“Are you sure?”

I looked past her.

She turned around and stared at the painting behind her.  It was a beautiful portrait of snow and mountains with a frozen river.

She will be safe there, I thought.  “I love your picture,” I said.

She stared at the portrait for a moment and shivered.

“I think we’re done here.”  I jumped out of my seat, feeling light, lighter than I had anticipated as if a huge weight had been lifted, but no, I just put it somewhere else.

“Yes.”  That word lingered on her lips for a moment.  “We’re done here.”  She continued to stare at the portrait almost as if she could see her standing there, crossing her arms over her chest to keep warm and staring back at me in anger and pain.

“Will you send the note?”  I asked.

She looked at me, barely smiling.  “Yes, I will send the note, and you could resume your normal activities.  But if you have any issues, any issues at all…”

I glanced at the portrait and smiled.

“Call me,” she said.  “You have my number.”

Yes,” I said.  “I have your number.”

I strolled over to the door, thinking of what I will do now that she was gone.  My hand brushed across the doorknob, and the cool air from the outside touched my face, almost as if I were there with her by the mountains and the snow.  She was better off there, far from the world to ever know the truth that she kept inside.

As I slipped out of that uncomfortable, cluttered and judgmental place, I heard her fists strike the portrait, nearly knocking it from the wall.  Her screams were muffled.  I sighed and glanced at the portrait.  Good-bye, I thought.  I realized that she was not alone.

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Fiction © Copyright Melissa R. Mendelson
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com.

About Author Melissa R. Mendelson:

Melissa R. Mendelson is the author of the Sci-Fi Novella, Waken.  She also has a prose poetry collection called, This Will Remain With Us published by Wild Ink Publishing.  Her short story collections, Better Off Here and Name’s Keeper can be found on Amazon/Amazon Kindle.

If you’d like to learn more about Melissa, you can visit her accounts here: www.MelissaMendelson.com