Page 7 of Framed Obsession

“I don't believe there is anything wrong with people. We are all a little different in our own ways, Axel. Some may need a little more assistance than others, but that doesn't make anyone… wrong. How about we use the word unique instead of wrong? Being kinder to ourselves can help change our own perspective and narrative on how we see ourselves. Even if it's just as simple as changing a word like, wrong.” My head tilts slightly, considering her words.

“But what if there is something wrong with me? Let's say I’ve been told I'm not wired correctly. I'm incapable of understanding regular emotions.” The statement leaves my lips almost playfully.

“Who have you seen in the past besides your one visit to this office? I’m hoping no one told you there is something wrong with you. What an awful experience you may have had.”

“I’ve seen psychiatrists, doctors, therapists, guards, you name it.” My brow slightly rises as I watch her face react. It was subtle, as subtle as a second, but I saw the uncertainty. She takes a moment to gather a response, looking at her notepad before meeting my eyes with hers once again.

“Well, we can dive into all of that at a later time. Today is about getting comfortable with one another and touching on the basics. If that’s okay with you, Mr. Gray?” Her tone shifts, confident.

A full smile uncontrollably overtakes my face, leaving my dimples to cave in. My girl isn't afraid to hold her own. I’m going to love this relationship of ours.

Chapter 6

The Flower

“Good morning.” I greet the girl at the front desk as I pass her on my way to the back office. Layla is our new front-desk coordinator. She just started a week ago and the poor thing looks like she's struggling. Learning a new job isn’t easy. You have to meet new people, learn the computer system, and not to mention the hardest part—learning people's quirks.

Parker Raines Therapy Center has a total of five employees. I know it’s small. It's the only place that would take me after finishing school. I don’t mind my place of employment being small. They typically have a family-type feel, but here it seems the opposite. Everyone seems like they don’t care about establishing work relationships. Well, everyone except one person. Zoe is my saving grace. She finished school a bit before I did, landed a job here, and worked her magic to get my foot in the door.

Z and I attended the same university, becoming fast friends. She and I just clicked. If soulmates exist, she would be one in the form of a friend. Not as a lover because as much as I do very much love her, I like a P where her V is, but I digress.

I’ve only been employed here for a little over two months. Maybe I’m still learning people's quirks, but the other therapist here is kind of an asshole, and I don’t think it's me being dramatic. Besides Z and I, there’s Parker—as in “Parker Raines,” my boss—and Kyle, the other therapist. AKA the asshole.

Kyle won't say “hi.” He won't engage in any conversations or even small talk. He acts like he is above it all. Oh, not to mention, he is also a baby boomer. A very cranky baby boomer. Maybe after all these years dealing with other people's problems, he just avoids his own. Who knows? What I do know is that I gave up trying after a week. If he doesn't want to talk to me… then fine. I don’t want to talk to him either.

It’s Thursday, and it's my busiest day of the week. I have the same four clients who are accustomed to their Thursday times. Goodbye extended vacations. Other than my regulars, I have a new person on my schedule, Axel Gray. The name makes me chuckle, reminding me of a movie character.

I check the chart the front had put together for me, which typically includes the patient’s basic identification information, a brief mental health survey, and a section where they can add any additional notes or concerns while booking their appointment. There is a record of him having one prior session at our facility. Typically, a detailed manuscript of what was discussed would be in this file, but not much is written besides a few notes from Zoe.

Sarcastic, unwilling to put in effort, loves retorts.

That’s odd. Zoe would have definitely written more about her client. Well, at least I would hope she does. This gives me nothing to go on.

My eventful morning is just piling up. I woke up to another note from this anonymous stalker. This time it was left on my nightstand, in the same fashion—a black envelope with my name in the center and a single green dahlia next to it. Waking up to that was not on my docket today. In fact, it’s not on my docket any day.

What's horrifying about it is that they broke in while I was asleep again. That is twice now. Either I’m the heaviest sleeper in the world, or they’re literally a ghost. No, a demon, because only demons would scare the shit out of humans like this, making them go insane. Another note and polaroid accompanied the visit. The polaroid was of me walking to my car. Not so bad, right? Wrong. The note said:

That meant they weren't done. They weren't done with me. Why is this person doing this? Why can’t they just leave me alone? The paranoia I adopted has me constantly on edge, waiting for someone to pop out at any given second.

Not knowing who it is makes it even more terrifying. I have no inkling who this person could be. Protecting yourself becomes impossible when you can’t see the danger coming. As much as I like to think I can, this person has me beat.

I had stashed the note and picture along with the previous ones in a little wooden box in my closet. I’ll keep all the evidence, and maybe if I have enough, the police will do something. It’s worth a chance, right? By the way this person is tormenting me, I’m assuming they want me to get all riled up and scared. I’m just going to pretend ‌it doesn't bother me and go about my day. If the motherfucker is watching, maybe acting nonchalant will bother him instead.

A little green box highlights Axel's name on my computer, and I tidy my office a little before heading down the hall. Time flew by as if it were in a rush. I spent my morning thinking about the note so much I hardly noticed thirty minutes had passed.

“Axel Gray?” I ask around the room of empty chairs. A tall figure fills the periphery of my eye, and I turn. The man looks rugged. He is tall, very tall. I smile and introduce myself before walking him back to my office.

Shivers trail up my legs, trickling slowly toward my neck as I feel how close he's following behind me. His presence alone fills the air with a dark aura looming. We enter my office; the last door to the left.

I can feel his gaze roam around the office, a little longer than others typically do, and it makes me question my decor choices. I gesture to the sofa where I have my clients get comfortable. Well, as comfortable as possible. Compared to the single wooden chair I sit in during session time, the sofa is the most comfy seat.

“Please have a seat on the couch, Axel. Make yourself comfy first before start,” I suggest politely. I watch as he hesitates a moment before completely switching his energy. He sits lazily with both arms resting along the back of the couch, legs spread wide, as his left begins to bounce.

A lot of my clients have a fidgeting tic. It’s nerve-wracking to talk to a complete stranger about your struggles or concerns. It doesn't bother me. He probably doesn't even notice he's doing it. The demeanor change is interesting, though.

His gaze takes me in, slowly, eyes devouring every inch of me. I shift in my seat, quickly wanting to break the silence. I clear my throat before speaking.

“So, tell me a bit about yourself and why you're here? I looked at your file and it seems like you have been here once before.” The answer he gives me is unexpected. All the words that continue to pour out of his mouth are unexpected, actually.