LAYLA
I stepped out of the busy subway station, the city noise wrapped around me like a familiar blanket. New York was alive, pulsating with energy, but amidst the chaos, I walked with a calmness that was second nature to me.
The towering skyscrapers loomed overhead as I made my way to the office, a little haven amidst the concrete madness. The morning sunlight filtered through the windows, casting gentle rays across the polished floors. 'Lumina Psychiatric Retreat'. It was a space where stories found a voice, where pain was acknowledged, where healing began and where I have been working as a psycho therapist from the past one and a half years.
Unlocking the door to my office, the scent of lavender greeted me, a comforting presence in the air. The walls adorned with paintings whispered tales of resilience and hope. Each stroke, a reminder of the human spirit's strength. I love art!
My desk, cluttered yet organized, awaited my arrival with a stack of patient files, a cup of herbal tea and a nameplate, which displayed 'Dr. Layla Rose Beaumont,' alongside a lineup of degrees: a Ph.D in Psychology, an M.A. in Counseling, and certifications in Psychotherapy and Cognitive Behavioral Therapy.
Sitting down, I took a moment to soak in the tranquility of the space before diving into the day's appointments when I heard knock.
"Come in." I answered, taking a sip of my tea.
"You. Are late." My best friend cum colleague greeted me. Yes, that's how she greets.
I sighed sarcastically.
"Making it to work on Monday is an achievement in itself. Being fashionably late? Well, that's just adding a touch of sophistication to the Monday madness!" I said with a teasing smirk.
Amelia chuckled at my sarcasm.
"Alright, Dr. Beaumont. I wish you luck with that stack of files." She pointed at the mountain of patient appointments.
"You too, Dr. Reed." I said with a smile and Amelia left, closing the door behind her.
I checked the very first file of the stack and called the patient in.
Jacob settled in the armchair across from me. He was a middle aged man with a decent height and lean personality. He looked paler than usual today. I maintained a calm composure and started the conversation.
"Hello Jacob. Thank you for being here today. How have you been since our last session?"
"I have been struggling a lot lately. It feels likes everything is just too much to handle." His hands were fidgeting nervously in his lap.
"I am sorry to hear that. It Sounds like you have been dealing with a heavy burden. Let's take some time to explore what is weighing on you." I collected a small notebook and a pen.
"It's understandable that you're feeling overwhelmed. Let us breakdown some of these challenges into smaller and more manageable peices. What are some coping strategies that have helped you in the past?" I listened to him attentively and noted down a few points as Jacob spoke. We worked collaboratively to identify coping mechanisms and develop practical strategies to find his inner strength amidst diversity.
Despite his apprehension, there's a subtle openness in his posture now, a willingness to engage in the process of healing.
"Remember, you're not alone this journey. I am here to support you every step of the way. Let's continue to explore and grow together." I gave a reassuring smile.
With a hint of renewed hope and determination, Jacob thanked me and left.
I immersed in a few more intricacies of the human mind, guiding my patients through their struggles with empathy and understanding. And though the journey was filled with challenges, it was one I embraced with a quiet determination, knowing that each session brought us one step closer to healing.
As I finished the tasks of the day, evening descended and the city lights began to twinkle outside my window, I packed up my things, ready to return home.
The streets were quieter now, the hustle and bustle giving way to a sense of peace.
I reached my apartment. It was cozy yet stylish, with modern furnishings and ample natural light. It feels like a peaceful oasis amidst the chaos of city life. Just when I reached for the handle, something caught my eye.
A package. I sighed.
Another package. Awaited me, sitting innocently on the doorstep, just like countless others before it. It has now become a sort of monthly routine for me to receive such parcels. I stared at it for two whole minutes, unsure what to expect or what to feel.
Finally, with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, I reached for the parcel, my fingers trembling slightly as I recognized the familiar handwriting on the label.
I looked away from the note for the time being and carried the package inside. I carefully unwrapped it, and memories flooded my mind like a torrential downpour.
It had been two years since that fateful day when the first gift arrived-a bouquet of black roses, their dark beauty both mesmerizing and unsettling, accompanied by a note which said,
"These black roses which contrast against your light, hold the depth of my desire for you. Consider them as a glimpse of my relentless obsession with you." - Unknown.
No name, no address. Anonymous. Just an unknown obsessive shadow, lingering around me all the time without my notice. Just the thought of it sends chills down my body.
From that moment on, the gifts had continued unabated, some accessories, electronics, books, dresses, a huge massager chair etc; each one a silent reminder of his or her relentless pursuit.
I couldn't help but wonder what lay inside this latest offering. Was it another token of his obsession, his desire, his undying devotion?
Or perhaps, something more sinister.