Flash fiction: The voices

"I'm not sure Dr. Whitman, but I've been hearing voices."

"Dennis how long have you had this problem?" Dennis is hesitant to answer.

"W-W-Well, it all started when I was a kid." I was about 10-years-old, and I was in my grandma's basement. I knew I shouldn't be playing in there, but I did it anyways."

"That's interesting Dennis, please continue."

"My grandma was fixing breakfast, and I heard something call my name." Dennis is getting uncomfortable on the couch in the Doctor's office. " I'm not sure Doc, but I don't know about this whole therapy thing."

"Dennis you have to talk about these problems to get them out." Dr. Whitman just stares at Dennis.

"Okay, fine I heard the voices and they wouldn't stop calling my name." "As a kid the voices were muffled, but when I grew up they got louder."

I felt so odd talking to Dr. Whitman, he probably thought I was a quack. Something about that office didn't feel right, but I couldn't put my finger on it though.

"Dennis, I'm going to prescribe some medicine for those voices."

"That's okay Doc, I'll just deal with it on my own. Dr. Whitman turns to Dennis with an angry look in his eyes. " Listen here Dennis, I'm a Doctor, and what I say goes, got it?" I knew that I was pushing my luck, but I decided to up the ante.

"I'm not taking this medication Dr. Whitman, over my dead body."

The Doctor reaches in his drawer. " Fine, if you want to play hardball Dennis, then let's play." Dr. Whitman points a loaded revolver at Dennis.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"