Matilda

No reply came. The typewriter sat innocently quiet. After several minutes, Matilda, with a sad resignation, took the paper from the platen. She hid it away in the fairy tale book with the others. She put the typewriter up on the shelves as well, placing a few books around it like a fort. Hidden.

Parker opened the door just as she finished. He smiled hesitantly at her. Dr. Wells stepped in, black bag in hand. Matilda frowned at it, but then stopped herself. She wanted this to stop. She wanted to feel normal. She needed to. If medicine had helped her mom, it could help her. Maybe it would help her remember and cast out the darkness.

“Hello, Matilda,” the doctor said kindly.

“Can you fix this?” The words sounded desperate. I am desperate.

He walked to her, put a hand on her shoulder. “Yes. We are going to fix this.” He looked back at Parker. “Let’s sit and talk for a minute.”