I don’t understand why they’re all screaming. Surely they were being literal when asking for lions. They expressed themselves loudly and with smiles. That’s meant to indicate excitement, right? The doctor said as much. Then why is she looking at me with her mouth open and otherwise blank features? I think she’s in shock. She should close her mouth. The children’s blood could enter her system and they might transmit a disease. She could get sick, and then I’d have to get a new doctor. That’s a long process.

“I quit.” The doctor shakily wipes blood off her face, mostly smearing it instead. “I’m done. I quit and I’m done. You don’t need a doctor Gabrielle; you need a handler.”

I shoot the lions. “Now I need a doctor.”

She screeches and runs. Was it something I said? It must’ve been. My previous doctors did the same thing. Maybe the gun has something to do with it. It’s the only constant. I have to find a doctor that likes guns then. That way they won’t run away screaming. Father would approve of my problem solving.

“Do any doctors here like guns?”

“Pardon?”

“Do any doctors here like guns?”

The receptionist shifts. “I heard you the first time.”

“Then why did you-.”

“Look, do you want to make an appointment? I’m sure we can fit you in at some point this month.”

“I need a doctor in the next forty-seven hours.”

“Maybe you should see a GP. Or try a hospital even.”

“No, the court specified a mental specialist. Do any of your doctors like guns?”

He draws a deep breath. “I’ll need your age and proof of the court order.”

“37. It’s in my jacket.”

I hand him the papers, sunlight glinting on my handgun when I move my jacket. The receptionist has the same look as my previous doctor. He must not like guns either.

“It uh ... it says here that you’re not allowed firearms.”

“I can’t read.”

“Oh. Okay then. I- I’ll go see if anyone’s available. You just take a seat.”

“I’d rather stand.”

“Stand then!” He clears his throat. “Sorry, just please wait here.”

“Alright.”

He shuffles off, throwing a glance over his shoulder and shaking his head before disappearing around a corner. Was he nervous? I think that’s how people act when they’re nervous. That or he was excited. People should have their emotions labelled at all times. It’d make understanding them easier.

The receptionist comes back, his eyes falling on me and widening. He seems surprised. Maybe people don’t usually wait when he asks them to. I must be the exception, like always. He sits behind his desk, tapping his fingers against it in a steady thrum. His eyes shift from his monitor to the hallway, occasionally landing on me for a second only to dart away. Perhaps he needs to use the bathroom, but doesn’t want to leave the front desk unattended.

“I’ll wait here until the doctor is ready. You can go.”

The tapping stops. “It’s fine.” It resumes.

“How long will the wait be?”

“They’re in the middle of a session.”

“How long?”

His eyes briefly meet mine. “Five minutes.”

“You lied.”

The tapping stops. “What?”

“You said they were in the middle of a session and then you said they have five minutes left. That means they would’ve been in the session for five minutes previously and I’ve been here for ten. Nobody’s come in, so no new sessions have started. They couldn’t be in the middle if there’s five minutes left.” I blink. “You lied.”

“Sorry.”

“What for?”

“Lying.”

I step forward. “Has lying damaged me?”

“I- I don’t know.” He shrinks into his chair. “Maybe.”

“Are you scared?”

“No.”

“But the way you’re acting seems scared.”

“Well I’m not.” He seems sure of himself.

I step back into my corner. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

He starts tapping again. It’s lost its rhythm. The ticking of the clock is the loudest noise now. It has a rhythm. Maybe he should try copying the clock to get his rhythm back. I don’t know if he cares. He might not have noticed that he lost it. His eyes refuse to meet mine anymore. I think he lied again. He is scared. I don’t know why. Lying doesn’t make sense to me. What’s the point?

“Gabrielle?”

The doctor is standing next to the receptionist desk. They watch their previous patient leave without making another appointment. Perhaps she doesn’t want one. The doctor might not be good then. I don’t think that’s important. The court never specified the quality of doctor.

“Do you like guns?”

They nod. “Follow me.” They look to the receptionist. “Please clear my schedule for the day.”

“Okay.”

“And go home early. You can take the week off.”

“Thank you.”

The doctor leads me to their room and gestures to an empty chair.

“I’d rather stand.”

“As you wish.” They sit and look to me with a smile. “Let’s start with the lions.”

“How do you know about them?”

“My niece was one of the children there.” They hold out their hand. “Can I have a look at your gun?”

I hand it to them. “People don’t like my gun.”

“Do you have any others?”

“No.”

“Do you understand that I won’t be handing this one back?”

“I’m not allowed firearms.”

“My sister hasn’t stopped crying.” They tighten their grip on the gun. “The police are looking for you.”

“I’m on bail.”

“They have orders to shoot on sight. Do you know what that means?”

“I’m going to die.”

They nod. “So why are you here?”

“Father told me that he wanted me to do what the court told me to.”

“Then why did you kill those children?”

“I didn’t. The lions did.”

“Did you know what the lions would do?”

“Yes.”

“Then why-.”

Their phone rings. I watch as they stand and answer, eyes focussed on me as they nod and mumble an answer. They put the phone down. “The police are here. Do you know what that means?”

“Yes.”

They open the door. “It was nice meeting you, Gabrielle.”

I leave their room. They close the door behind me. The police are waiting next to the empty receptionist desk. Their guns are raised. I wave to them. The white walls get a splash of colour.