"Jon, do you know the first day you stepped into the clinic, and I told you that there was nothing wrong with you. Well, I was right. You are a fine specimen; one of good health with the rare flu and cough. Those were due to those salsa meals you over indulge in." He is putting on his blue frock.
"I told you so many times, and I gave you those heartburns tablets to take. It was to take care of your diet. Likewise the gym sessions, I needed you to be feel the need to be healthy. You see, Jon; to me, you are needed to be as healthy as a bull. I wanted you that way. " He smacked his lips together. Its his way of expressing overjoy. Like during Christmas, he was so emotional when I gave him the present. His first in many years and he showed his appreciation that night.
"Its not me that led you here today on this surgical table." I saw him pulling in the thin tight gloves. It was always a fetish for him to wear them I never knew why but he does that on purpose; the smacking of the plastic on his wrist as he pulled those gloves in tight. He knows I disliked that sound.
"Its you; your hypochondria condition makes you my specimen. Your fear of the unknown makes you my perfect victim. Now that is made known to you, I shall tell what else is going to be known to you." He leans over to speak to me. He had on the surgical mask now. You won't know its him behind it. Unless you know him like I did.
"You would be dissected and have your parts removed. Yes, I made you sign the donor form. There would be a dinner tonight; a thanksgiving one. They would appreciate your parts; I would not add in the salsa sauce. It may spoil the taste for me. So relax, Jon. Death is a beautiful moment. It ends all pain and suffering; imagined or real." The bastard had it all planned. I should had not believed him then, but I did. I was in love with him. He was the perfect patient. He made use of me for his own personal greed.
"Thank you, Jon." I am slipping off into unconsciousness. All those times, when I was his doctor I thought I had him cured but instead he has just added me as his latest victim to a list of numbers in his file. I am going to die in one of his mocked up dissecting room.
I am a hopeless psychiatrist; letting my own fear be my undoing. All those sessions of communication was a ruse for him to know me, and not the other way. I was drawn to him; signed off his early release, invited him to my home. And now he is taking off my life.
He actually won in the battle of the minds.
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