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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1576406-The-Night-People
Rated: E · Short Story · Emotional · #1576406
Unhealthy aspirations never lead to a happy ending.
The Night People



March 11, 2007 9 A.M.

        Dr. Lily Desmonte tapped her pen against her desk nervously. She was a woman in her early thirties, with light brown hair tied up in a professional looking bun. She had pretty green eyes and was rather short and skinny. The room in which she currently occupied was a bright robin’s egg blue, with stuffed animals and a toddler sized table with a tray of crayons in it. Her Ph. D in children’s psychology hung on the back wall of the room, just to reassure the parents of her patients. Readjusting her hair, she thought about her predicament again. Demetria Barker, daughter of Harry Barker, one of the top men in Apple Corporations. Her mother had died two years ago of breast cancer and supposedly she had been experiencing behavioral problems ever since, including severe insomnia, a mental disorder where you couldn’t fall asleep. If she couldn’t do anything for the child, her father might spread rumors, and well…you didn’t want important men talking about you in negative manner.

         There was a slight tapping on the door which made Lily jump. Her secretary, Ms. Cleon, called out, “Lily, Demetria Barker is here to see you.”

         She hurried over and opened up the door, admitting a small child and a rather cranky-looking woman. The woman turned to Lily and said, “I’m Ms. Fierron, Demetria’s nanny. I have some errands to run, so I hope you don’t mind being alone with her for the next two hours.”

         Lily shook her head and smiled, “No, that’s fi-“

         “Good,” Ms. Fierron interrupted, and immediately left the room, only pausing to call out to Demetria, “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

         Lily ushered the child over to a tan, leather couch and sat her down. She quickly grabbed some coloring books and dolls from bins in the back of the room and set them out in case Demetria wanted to use them. Finally, she paused, and got a good look at the girl. She was about seven, with shoulder-length dark hair and gorgeous brown eyes. Lily thought she would have been the prettiest girl she had ever seen if it weren’t for the melancholy expression on the girl’s features. Settling down in a chair opposite the girl, Lily smiled reassuringly, “Hi, Demetria. I’m Dr. Desmonte. You can just call me Lily if you want.” The girl merely looked up at her as if she was the source for all of her problems.  Undeterred, Lily continued, “I thought we should tell a little something about ourselves to each other. Here, I’ll start; well, my name’s  Lily, I’m thirty-three, I have two cats named Whiskers and Tina, I love hot chocolate in the winter and my favorite flowers are chrysanthemums.”

         “My name’s Demetria, I’m seven, and I don’t like you.”

         'Alright then, she’s a happy one,' Lily thought sarcastically. “Okay, Demetria, you don’t have to like me, but you’re still going to be here for two hours.” Lily smiled again and offered her a cookie.



March 18, 2007 10 A.M.

         The sessions were going better than Lily had first thought they would. Over the course of the first week, Demetria had gotten used to the idea of seeing a psychologist and was warming up to Lily. Still, whenever her mother was brought up, the child would merely look away sorrowfully and ask to go to the bathroom.

         Today, Lily had Demetria drawing pictures of herself and her family. The girl seemed content when drawing pictures and even seemed to look excited when explaining them. Holding up her picture of herself as an undersea explorer, she asked, “How do you like it?”

         Lily nodded her head approvingly. “Great job Demetria! Now, did you complete your assignment from our last session?”

         The girl nodded and grabbed a pink folder where she pulled out several other drawings. The last assignment for Demetria had been to draw a picture of herself at home, a self-portrait, her favorite person in the world, and her favorite idea or thing in the world. Demetria handed over the four pictures and Lily scanned them over. The first showed a frowning girl standing next to a woman with a grumpy expression and a large head. Lily immediately got the impression that this was Ms. Fierron. They were both standing in an expensive foyer room.  The second was again of an un-smiling girl. Lily frowned; was there any picture in which she was smiling? The third showed a picture of a girl with tears running down her cheeks, standing next to a woman. The woman’s eyes were closed and she was smiling peacefully. The drawing gave Lily goose bumps. Demetria’s mother, she reflected. The fourth was the most unusual of all; instead of some activity or an animal, there were fifteen different fairies, each one unique. Lily stared at this picture curiously. Some of them were pretty, with gossamer wings and tiaras, while others almost looked like they could’ve been found in a horror film, with animal parts and sneering expressions.

         Lily held up the last drawing, “Demetria, what’s this?”

         “They’re the Night People.”

         At Lily’s confused look, Demetria explained, “When I was littler I had a nice nanny, Ms. Melpool, who was much better than Ms. Fierron. When I couldn’t go to sleep, she would tell me stories about the Night People. They lived in another place, but they could come here. They would search the night until they found a sleeping kid and then take them away to their world. The kid would party and have so much fun, that they would completely forget about their home and their parents would never see them again. My mommy didn’t like her telling me that story, ‘cause I would get scared. But then she died, and daddy fired Ms. Melpool. But I remember another part of the story. Ms. Melpool said that in the land of the Night People, all your dead friends and family are there too. And they’re happy to see you. So, I want the Night People to come. But I haven’t been able to go to sleep ever since Mommy died,” Demetria looked a little embarrassed at the last part and lowered her head. “I want to go see Mommy again,” She choked out, on the verge of tears.

         Lily stared dumbfounded. She had seen many cases of children being unable to cope with the death of a loved one, but this…this was just…bizarre. A shiver went up her spine, and she glanced back down at the image. Deciding that sitting there with a blank expression was probably not the best way to act and desperate to quell this strange notion, she sat up straight and asked Demetria, “But what about everyone else? What about your daddy? Won’t you miss him?”

         Demetria looked away again and spoke softly, “Daddy doesn’t care about me.”

         Guilt trip time. Lily immediately realized she had opened up a painful wound, and changed the topic abruptly, “Well, how come some of the Night People look so scary?”

         “They’re like people,” the child whispered. “Some people are nice and some people are scary.”

         “Well, how do you know they exist?”

         “I don’t,” Demetria responded. “Sometimes you just have to believe in things, and not disturb them. To let them come to you. Some things shouldn’t be solved.”



April 2, 2007 3 P.M.

         Much to Lily’s chagrin, the Night People were brought up on multiple occasions afterward. It was the only thing Demtria wanted to talk about. About anything else, all she got were one-word answers and Demetria examining her shoes. Even when playing with the dolls, she seemed hesitant to give any information away. But when the Night People were brought up, what a dramatic transformation! Her cheeks would flush, a sparkle would be in her eye, and she would sometimes even gesticulate to prove her point. And to Lily’s own dismay, the idea of the Night People fascinated her as well. All the detail with which Demetria described them, talking about their lifestyle, how some brought you dreams and some brought you horrifying nightmares.

        And yet, Lily couldn’t stop her uneasiness. The longing for the other world that the child possessed was obsessive and just plain creepy. When Lily asked Demetria about her future, the girl would merely smile mysteriously and say, "If I have my way, I won't have to worry about that." It was not a normal response for a seven-year old. Lily would ponder her words while gazing at the drawing of the Night People. How could a young girl have such a fixed aspiration, especially one that was certainly not healthy in the slightest. What if she was overwhelmed by a desire to see her mother and succumbed to suicide? Lily would always try to quell this notion and think, 'That's what I'm here for. To help her. To let her find a way through this.'

         Today, however, would be different. When Ms. Fierron dropped Demetria off, the girl was sobbing. Placing her on the couch, Lily handed Demetria a box of tissues. While the girl blew her nose, Lily asked her why she was so upset.

         “It’s all her and Daddy’s fault! I told them about the Night People and they said that you were encu-“

         She stumbled over the word and Lily offered, “Encouraging?”

         Demetria smiled hesitantly, “Yeah, that word. Anyway, they said I couldn’t come see you anymore. I’m going to be seeing some new person.”

         A wave of sadness washed over Lily. She really had been getting attached to the child. “So, this will be our last session I’m guessing?”

        Demetria just nodded. She held up her pink folder that contained her artwork and murmured, “I drew you some more pictures like you asked.”

        Sighing for a moment, Lily felt a pang of angst in her stomach. She accepted the folder from Demetria and set it aside. “Thank you, I’ll look at them later. But we don’t have much time left, and because today is our last day, you can do whatever you want.”

         Demetria ran over to one of the bins and grabbed a couple of dolls. “Can we have a tea party?”



April 8, 2007 11 A.M.

        Lily was tidying up her room, preparing for a new patient, when he arrived. Ms. Cleon rapped on her door and called out, “Dr. Desmonte, someone is here to see you.”

         Lily was startled. Who could it be? Her patient wasn’t coming till another half hour. “Send them in, please.”

         The door opened up and a tall man with charcoal colored hair walked into the room. “Good morning Doctor, I’m Detective Fiennes. Sorry to bother you, but were you the psychologist to a girl named Demetria Barker?”

         Lily’s stomach knotted and she could feel her heart begin to hammer in her chest. What could have happened? “Y-yes, I was.”

         “Alright. Ms. Barker died in her bed last night. We aren’t sure of the exact time or cause, but we were wondering if she spoke of anything unusual to you.”

         Lily just gaped at him horrified, “But-but, she was just a child! How could she have died, it doesn’t make any sense! I-it’s impossible!” Tears were trickling down her cheeks and she wiped them away with the back of her hand, not caring how unprofessional it may have looked.

         The detective gave her a sympathetic look, “We’re all shocked. Nobody knows why she died in her sleep. Did she tell you anything?”

         Sniffling, Lily looked back up at him. “No,” she whispered.

         He sighed and walked over to the door, then turned back to face her, “Go do something nice for yourself, maybe go out to lunch. This has been hard on you. You deserve it.” He left the room, with Lily standing there immobile, listening to the sounds of his receding footsteps.  She felt dizzy and sick and angry all at the same time, and had to sit down or she feared she would pass out. Leaning back on the couch, sorrow blossomed like a weed, trespassing on a faithful gardener’s prize flowers, choking them till they withered; husks of their former beauty. Standing up she grabbed Demetria’s folder, sat back down, and rifled through the papers, gazing tearfully at each drawing. She was about to close the folder, when she noticed something. Opening it back up, she stared at the last picture. Could it be? In the picture, Demetria was smiling! Rubbing her eyes, she took another look. Nope, not an optical illusion. 'But…wasn’t she frowning in all of her pictures…Then again, I haven’t seen these…But still…' Feeling a strange urge to laugh and scream all at the same time, she ran her fingers through her hair nervously and then stood up, heading to the door. She walked out to the surprise of Ms. Cleon, who ran up to see if anything was wrong.

         Smiling reassuringly at the woman Lily stated, “I’m going out for a quick lunch. I’ll be back before the DeVaults arrive.” Ignoring Ms. Cleon’s dumbstruck expression, she left the office and walked to the front door of the building, opening it and escaped into the warm spring day. Like Demetria had said, some things shouldn't be solved.
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