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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1177761-death-by-insanity
Rated: E · Short Story · Health · #1177761
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Death by insanity

Peter sat nervously in a small scarlet chair twiddling his thumbs, eagerly awaiting the arrival of Doctor Harris. To him it had felt that he had been sitting there for several hours but in reality he had been there for only five minutes at the most. From the corner of his eye something caught his attention. Instantly he rose from his seat. The room was neither a very big room nor a small room. It was just right. Well that was what Peter thought anyway. The room was lined with tall oak bookshelves on which were placed a large quantity of hard back books in a variety of colors but generally in green and red with gold writing.

Peter made his way to the back of the room where a small wooden sculpture stood with emeralds for its eyes. It was like nothing that Peter had ever seen before; it certainly wasn’t human nor was it an animal. As Peter’s mind began to stray he heard foot steps behind the door. He ran back to his seat in the nick of time for at that very moment a tall white haired man appeared in front of the door. He was dressed in a large white over coat and a black suit with a small bow tie which was perfectly tied.

“Oh hello you must be Peter” he looked back down at his clipboard then up to peter. “Peter Rowland”.
“Yes I am” he uttered.
“Good well my names Doctor Harris” he pulled out his chair from under his desk also the same scarlet color. “Do you have any questions before we start” he spoke slowly and almost spelt out every letter in every word.
“Yes just one” Dr Harris interrupted him.
“Let me guess – ‘why am I here?’”
“Well no actually” he turned behind him and pointed at the small sculpture “what is it?”
“Ahh that you see my boy to find the answer to that question would be to dispel all the magic surrounding it. Now look we’ve only got an hour’s session to get to the root of your problems.”
“What problems are we talking about here? I haven’t got one I was told to come here by my head teacher”
“Where do you think the root of your problems began?”
“I don’t know because I HAVENT GOT A PROBLEM”
“I see” his frown turned upside down and he began to chuckle.
“What does so funny tell me what’s funny?”
“Ok I’ll tell you. I work for M.I.5 and you have been selected for a very special mission”
“Are you insane?”
“Erm no. I think you’ll find you are” he started to laugh once more but this time pretty much uncontrollably.
“Ha ha ha. Not funny. So what do you want me to do?”

***

As Peter walked back home all the things Dr Harris had said played in his mind. Was this just some elaborate insanity test. He didn’t even know his real name and, after all, his secret mission to spy on his 80 year old neighbor who was supposedly going to carry out a 50 million pound bank robbery. What are the chances of that he thought to himself? Peter decided that he would find out more about his next door neighbor Mrs. Turner. It might be enjoyable to dig up a few home truths and use them against her when she told him to keep his dog out of her garden.

“How was your psychiatrist session?” his mother asked.
“Yeah it was good. Very useful. I’m going again on Wednesday.”
“Don’t go too often it costs money you know and I think you know that money doesn’t grow on trees” he father muttered.
Peter thought it wise to leave the room before his parents entered into a full blown row as they often did now. They would argue about anything from money to what time his father should be coming home from work. Peter often wondered when their divorce papers would be filed.

Peter peered out of his small dirty window into Mrs. Turner’s back garden. He could make out a small dark figure near the flower bed. He made a note of it in his note book which Dr Harris had given him. It appeared to be the figure of Mrs. Turner weeding. Nothing interesting seemed to be going on at her house but he made a note of even the slightest movement, he didn’t want to let down Doctor Harris.

It was a Wednesday morning and the day Peter was to return to Doctor Harris for a follow up appointment or so everyone around him thought.

“Peter welcome back how are you” said Doctor Harris
“I’m alright but I’ve got a few questions I’m not sure this is real”
“REAL. Of course it’s real”
“Where’s the proof”
“Proof you need proof now I’m in MI5 not the FBI we don’t just walk around mindlessly with metal badges. Do you need proof to know that god exists? NO you just believe. Do you want to be the one that costs somebody 50 million” Peter shook his head.
“So what have you found out?”
“Nothing. That she watches last of the summer wine, she has three sugars in her tea and she does weeding in her garden every second day”
“Is that it? Is that the best you’ve got”
“Yes it is she’s an 80 year old lady she isn’t going to be robbing any banks anytime soon”.
Harris sighed in disbelief and pulled out three 50 pound notes “Will this do the trick?” Peter nodded but this time I want you to break into her house and take anything that could be used for a bank robbery and I’ll double the money I will give you. Get it kid” his voice and behavior became more and more aggressive as time wore on. “oh and you better carry one of these” he handed peter a pocket knife.

As Peter left the room he was relieved. This was all getting serious now, spying was one thing but armed robbery was another thing entirely.

Maybe it was the money that egged him on or maybe it was just the adrenalin. Either way he still did it. He broke into Mrs. Turner’s house when he knew that she would be collecting her pension from the post office. He smashed a back window and clambered in.

Her house was bitterly cold and dark it was like walking back in time everything seemed to be at least fifty years out of date there was a thick layer of lingering dust in the air. Peter tried to find his way around the house. Searching for anything he could find that might be used in a bank robbery. But like he expected there was nothing only a few old photos of her beloved husband Alfie Turner. As Peter turned to leave the flat he saw a large black box he decided to open it. Inside was small white bag full of money. Peters mind wondered maybe she was an experienced bank robbery and this was the money she had previously stolen Peter quickly placed the box back. As he knew he hadn’t got much time left and she could return at any moment he grabbed the money and slipped out of the same smashed window which he had entered by.

He ran all the way to the hospital for he knew that Doctor Harris would be most pleased with his discovery and maybe he would get a bonus if he was lucky. As he entered the hospital and the doctor’s office he could see that all his belongings were placed in boxes and that nothing remained except that small emerald eyed sculpture from behind him he could here a voice.
“Hello sir can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Doctor Harris”
“Harris you say there’s nobody here called Dr Harris anymore but there was once though but he died last year some say he had a heart attack but most think he committed suicide in this very room”
“What did you want him for? Anything in particular”
“No”

“Would you like to arrange another appointment with a psychiatrist? They’re very good you know”
“Yes maybe that will be for the best”


“I see”
Peter opened his eyes to see a man seated on a scarlet chair making notes. “That’s what happened you say” well let’s get to the root of the problem and see were this whole thing came from”
“It wasn’t a dream I’m sure of that”
“Indeed I see”
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