“Hi, doc, didn’t really know you’re open on the weekends.”

Around the fifth day since my consciousness came back, I was discharged from the hospital. Before that, though, my surgeon required me to go back to Dr. Antoine Burke, my psychiatrist, for a psych evaluation. I’ve been consulting him about my condition since I was seventeen with a plethora of problems. Apparently, at that time, my father got the recommendation from his boss, the prime minister herself.

“Sota, good to see you up and about.”

“Am I?”

Until now I hadn’t gotten used to meeting him. The uptight buttoned up shirt, the round thin rimmed glasses, the long curly wavy hair that’s a little unkempt—they all contributed to making his scrawny body felt really intimidating.

His office was never well-lit and I could feel the insect themed decoration staring into my very soul. No noise could be heard aside from the rhythmically ticking clock. For a place for therapy, this place really was not built for relaxation. Somehow, though, despite that or maybe because of that, his welcoming subtle smile made him look far more trustworthy in contrast to the whole room itself—such an imposing yet confusingly comforting figure was sitting across me behind an enormous wooden desk.

“I see,” he nodded in affirmation after hearing the gists of what happened with my brother in the hospital. As a promise to my mother, I agreed to tell Dr. Burke everything I was going through. This included the story of Maria and I. “I believe you already understood what caused such discourse.”

“Pretty much. I didn’t mean to lash out at him like that, though.”

“Do you think it’s bad, Sota?”

“Talking to him? Lashing out? Telling him everything?”

He nodded without any real response coming out of his mouth. Generally, the sessions were always like that. It was usually just me ranting for hours with him listening and giving advice here and there. I tried to read his expression, trying to find the correct answer but we all knew that meant nothing. I looked up to the ceiling. Hopeless.

“Maybe it’s not that bad to share after all but every time I do that, I feel like whining is the only thing I can do.”

“I wouldn’t call it whining, but,” Doctor Burke took off his round glasses and put it on the table. He rubbed his dry eyes with his right hand. Is he bored? He continued his explanation : “even if it is whining, isn’t that normal to do with someone who cares about you?”

“You might be right.”

“You sounded like my son with that response,” he laughed briefly. “We reached this point where I think you can fully understand which one is being dependent and which one is having a good support system.”

“So, you think I should talk to Aki more?”

“Of course. There’s no benefit to having a support system if you don’t try to trust them enough for that.”

I just nodded in agreement. Doctor Burke noticed the frown that was forming so he put a piece of chocolate on the table.

“One more thing, Doc. I feel like I started seeing things.”

“Things? Something you know for sure doesn’t exist?”

“Yes, something like that. I’m sure you already know about the incident.” I kept a glance in his eyes, judging his reaction to what I was saying. “I didn’t see it as a terrorist attack or at least I don’t remember it like one.”

Antoine Burke quickly put his glasses back on. He opened a notebook and a ballpoint pen. Tick. Tick. Tick. He pressed it three times.

“Go on.”

“I’m a little embarrassed to say it because it sounds like something out of a child’s mind but—” I scratched my head. “I saw some kind of dragon-like winged creature instead of the terrorists or a monorail. Do I need medication for that?”

Burke looked unusually interested in that conversation. “This creature, can you tell me how it looks like in detail?”

“As far as I remember, the head was like a lizard or a dragon. It does stand on four feet and it has two sets of wings.” At that time, I didn’t even realize that I remember it to that extent. “Also, I felt like it talked to me for a little bit. Something about despair and all.”

He jolted down every little detail, word-per-word, while occasionally checking the recorder, making sure it was recording. Is he smiling? I shrugged it off. After all that, Doctor Burke went back to his usual self.

“I don’t think you need any further medication, Sota.” Stuff like this is not uncommon. You probably saw a recurring memory of the incident during and after surgery as a dream and that was mixed with other ideas in your subconsciousness.”

“Are you sure about that? Because I, myself, am not exactly sure.”

“Unless you actually believe something that came straight out of a high-fantasy movie like that truly exists, I am sure of what I just said.”

“So, I’m fine?”

“Yes, for now, you are.”

I sighed out of relief. It was quite the worrying situation. I definitely didn’t want to rely on those things anymore if I could.

“Thanks, doc.