Grant Roberts sat nervously in the hallway sitting outside the offices of Doctor Laura Whitehorse. Normally, Doctor Whitehorse served as a professor and associate dean of Native Studies at the University of Alberta in Edmonton. Lately, however, the good doctor had been working on degrees in psychology and parapsychology. While no where near being an accredited psychologist, Doctor Whitehorse did make exceptions to the rule of dispensing basic counseling to those with extraordinary conditions. This was indeed an extraordinary condition Grant was suffering.
A recent incident at his work caused some concern from Grant’s supervisors. Working as a nursing assistant at the Royal Alexandra Hospital, Grant found himself at odds with one of the head nurses in regards to care of a recently admitted patient. Possibly delirious and incoherent from a severe fever, the patient freaked out over Grant trying to take the patient’s vital signs. The patient then proceeded to take a swing at Grant, who at that time reacted and restrained the patient rather forcibly. The head registered nurse at the time noticed this struggle and immediately called for security. At that time, a team of other nursing assistants and orderlies broke up the ensuing fight between Grant and the patient. The head nurse had asked for Grant’s services to be terminated immediately, but instead saw Grant put on a stress-related leave of absence and would be given his job back – provided he seek some counseling for this recent outburst.
Now here Grant sat, tapping his fingers nervously against the wood of the chair’s arms. Grant thought most people in the mainstream mental health services would not be able to fully understand everything about his condition. Seeking a more sympathetic ear to his plight, Grant had asked his roommate Kaitlyn Russo if she could recommend someone. After dealing with a similar situation that Grant was going through, Kaitlyn was more than willing to give him a good starting off point. Which now brought Grant to this moment here.
A young, thin woman opened the door to Doctor Whitehorse’s office. “Mister Roberts?” she said towards Grant. “Doctor Whitehorse is ready to see you now.”
“Thanks.” Grant said, clearing his throat as he got up and followed the young woman into the office. There sitting behind a classic looking oak office desk was a short, slightly chubby woman with jet black hair done up in a bun. The woman behind the desk got up and extended her hand out to Grant as if to introduce herself to him. “Mister Roberts? I’m Doctor Whitehorse.”, she said as Grant shook Doctor Whitehorse’s hand. Laura then motioned for the younger woman to exit the office so as to leave just Laura and Grant in the office. Grant sat down as Doctor Whitehorse proceeded to return to her seat behind the desk.
“Before we begin here,” Laura said as she cleared her throat. “You do realize I am not a fully recognized psychologist, right?”
“Yes I am aware,” Grant said as his fingers and hands nervously twitched. “But I don’t think anyone else would be willing to come near me with a twenty-foot pole.”
“Unless that pole was sharpened at the end like a stake and was aimed at your heart?” Doctor Whitehorse asked, trying to alleviate the slight tension with a bit of a joked.
“Right.”, Grant said with a bit of a nervous laugh. “My friend Kaitlyn said you would be at least a tad more sympathetic towards giving some advice to my kind…”
“To be perfectly honest, I have yet to meet face to face a vampire with a conscience and anger management issues. I am familiar with the concept, but more of a literary device than something I could see for my own eyes.”, Doctor Whitehorse said.
“Great. Now I suppose you’re going to be disappointed I don’t sparkle too?” Grant scoffed and rolled his eyes in slight annoyance.
“Perhaps we have already established part of the reason for your outburst at work?” Doctor Whitehorse asked, trying to avoid a potential faux-pas.
“Well since the government strengthened the laws on keeping us registered, we now have to wear this,” Grant showed a black armband with a white circle and a capital red “V” in the middle. He then went on: “I’ve done my best to keep it concealed at work, but somehow this patient fingered me as my true kind and got all ‘I ain’t bein’ worked on by no gawd-dang fanger!’”, saying the last part in a mock redneck twang.
“Which was when the patient came after you and…?”
“I reacted like I would in any situation where I feel my life is in danger.” Grant said defensively.
“Right,” Doctor Whitehorse said as she sympathetically nodded.
“Then I have this bitch of a nurse then read me the riot and basically said this is why my kind should not be allowed to exist period.” Grant said and sighed. “I really can’t lose this job. It’s one of the few things that makes me feel, well, normal.”
“And why is feeling normal important to you?” she asked.
“I really don’t know or understand why. All I know is there has to be more to my life than just being a soulless minion of the devil.”, he answered back.
“Well, are there others in your community who feel the same way as you do?”
“I know of a few, but I’m kinda persona non grata among my own kind. And then there is a rumor of a private member’s bill being drawn up in Ottawa, but I don’t want nothing to do with that pro-rights movement.”
“I would think being involved with your people’s civil rights movement might be a good place to feel like part of something more than just what you have now.” Doctor Whitehorse said.
“Perhaps,” Grant said back to her. “Or perhaps I will find out that I am truly the monster I have avoided becoming for so many years. Perhaps I can’t fight that instinct anymore and I will just succumb to my own nature.”, he said with great reservation.
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