Featured content from The Reanimatrix

'Thank you, Mr. Turner. We will be fine now,' said Dr. Stevenson. Mr. Turner leaned over his daughter, who was sitting in the middle of the nearby two-seater sofa, and whispered in her ear 'We love you, no matter what. You can tell Dr. Stevenson anything you like. You don't have to be afraid.'

He smiled. It was a thin smile; a smile that barely masked his sense of despair.

Sabine didn't even see her mother. Mrs. Turner had cried enough during the past hour. She had embraced Sabine briefly and swept out of the room, handkerchief in hand.

Dr. Stevenson remained still for a moment, after Mr. and Mrs. Turner had gone. Her gaze was fixed on Sabine, who didn't feel at all uncomfortable. She trusted the doctor, perhaps more so than her own parents. Dr. Stevenson had never produced a single notepad during all of their sessions, much to Sabine's surprise (and occasional amusement).

Today, however, Dr. Stevenson produced a small diary, which she began flipping through. 'Today is the...eighteenth, isn't it?'

'I think so,' said Sabine quietly.

'Eighteenth of October,' muttered Dr. Stevenson as she penned an entry into the little diary.

Sabine's eyes wandered around the small office, as she waited for the doctor. It wasn't much like any office she had seen before; it was more akin to a cosy little study, or even a small lounge room. There was a certain charm to Dr. Stevenson, which was reflected in the warmth of her office. The walls were not plastered with various certificates, as Sabine had first expected they would be. Instead, the walls were dotted with small Beatrix Potter renderings. Each sat within a neat little frame and each seemed to feature Peter Rabbit in one way or another. In one picture, he was chasing his friends through a sunny English countryside and in another, he was peering out of the frame into the room. Sabine couldn't decide whether or not she found the picture endearing or frightening; on some days, when the light was a certain way, it looked as though Peter was smiling and satisfied. But on other days, particularly when the weather was overcast and grey, Peter's face looked entirely different; as though his stare were empty and hollow, with no consciousness behind those black eyes.

Dr. Stevenson finally looked up from her diary, over the rims of her glasses. 'Sorry about that,' she said, 'I bought this diary to remind me of things that I am always forgetting.' She closed the diary and placed it on a small end table beside her chair. 'But I tend to forget to enter the things I'm always forgetting into the diary.'

'So you forget to remind yourself not to forget what you're always forgetting?' said Sabine, with a faint smile.

Dr. Stevenson chuckled to herself and sighed. 'Exactly.'

For another moment, silence fell upon the room. Dr. Stevenson's smile slowly faded and she assumed an expression that Sabine had seen many times before. Sabine had mentally noted it as the "doctor is about to ask a serious question" expression.

'Sabine, I would like to continue our discussion from last time,'
said Dr. Stevenson. 'I want to ask you about your family. We haven't had a great deal of time to discuss them lately.'

Sabine shifted in her chair. 'My family is okay.'

Dr. Stevenson sat further back in her chair, but did not respond.

'They are supportive, they do what they can,' Sabine added.

'Would you say that your parents are strict? Do they have solid rules around the house?'

Sabine paused before responding. 'They're not strict, they...my mom is usually the one to get angry with us if we do something wrong. Dad is always the good cop.'

'Do you think that puts a strain on your mother, always having to be the bad guy?'

Sabine nodded. 'I guess it does. But at the same time, she's always the one we go to if we need advice. It's not that dad doesn't give good advice, but...'

'But?'

'But he doesn't seem to care as much.'

Dr. Stevenson's eyes remained focused on Sabine. 'When was the last time your parents punished you, Sabine?'

'Just after my birthday, last year,' said Sabine immediately. The immediacy of her reply seemed to surprise her, as she then paused as if she had said something wrong.

'What happened?' asked Dr. Stevenson.

'They punished me for having an argument with my brother over the dinner table. I swore at him, and that's something I never do at home.'

Dr. Stevenson cocked her head slightly. 'What did they do as punishment?'

'Can I lay down?' asked Sabine.

'Yes, go ahead,' said Dr. Stevenson. Sabine took the cushions from behind her and lay them at one end of the sofa. She lay back, with her arms folded over her stomach.

'They confiscated my computer for two weeks.'

'How did that make you feel?'

Sabine closed her eyes and breathed deeply. 'Alone,' she said.

'Alone? Because you weren't able to chat to your online friends?' asked Dr. Stevenson.

Sabine nodded slowly. 'I don't think they understood how much that hurt me.'

'Was it easier for you to relate to your online friends, rather than your family, or friends at school?'

'I love my family, but sometimes I don't feel like I'm living with them. Sometimes I don't feel like we are ...together. We might share the same room, but I don't feel like we are really together.'

'Do you feel like you're alone?'

Sabine looked up at the ceiling, as tears began to well in her eyes. 'I don't know,' she said, as her voice trembled ever so slightly, 'but when they took my computer away, I felt alone. It didn't matter that I was living in a house full of people...I was alone.'

Dr. Stevenson spoke softly, 'Being alone...does that frighten you?'

Sabine brushed the cuff of her shirt over her eyes once more. 'I don't want to be alone,' she said.

For another moment, there was silence. And then...

'Do you still dream?' asked Dr. Stevenson.

'All the time,' said Sabine. 'I dream when I'm awake, too.'

'When you're awake? Can you tell me what it's like to dream when you're awake?'

Sabine smiled to herself. 'There are times where my computer talks to me, even when it's switched off. Sometimes I can sit in my room and talk to it.'

'Oh? What does your computer tell you?'

'Lots of things,' said Sabine slowly. 'It tells me that nothing is real. I'm not real, you're not real, my parents aren't real...'

Dr. Stevenson leant forward in her chair. 'Do you believe that nothing is real?'

Sabine laughed. 'No, that doesn't make sense. If nothing was real, then we wouldn't be having this conversation.'

'What else does your computer tell you?'

'It tells me that it's a messenger. That it's here to save me.'

'A messenger? From God?'

Sabine closed her eyes once more and smiled to herself. 'I don't know,' she said. 'But it's my only friend now, so I feel like I should trust it.'

The grandfather clock in the nearby hallway chimed. Sabine sat up and ran a hand through her hair. This was to be her final session with Dr. Stevenson and she felt relieved, though slightly worried. The pills she'd been taking for her daylight hallucinations weren't working. If anything, the visions had been getting steadily worse.

Just as Sabine went to leave, Dr. Stevenson put a hand on her shoulder.

'Sabine,' she said softly, 'I want you to know that those pills you were prescribed...they were placebos. Just water.'

Sabine didn't turn around. 'Thank you,' she said, as she made her way out of Dr. Stevenson's office.