By: Addie Logan
Makes me what I am.
Always it is calling me
For the blood of man.
They say I cannot be this
I am jaded, hiding from the day.
I can't bear, I cannot
Tame the hunger in me
Oh, I say I did it.
Always searching
You can't fuck with me.
So instead you'll taste my pain.
The hunger inside, given to me
Makes me feel alive.
Always out, stalking prey
I the dark I hide.
Feeling, falling, hating.
Feel like I am fading.
Hating LIFE!!!
They say I cannot be this
I am jaded, hiding from the day.
I can't bear, I cannot
Tame the hunger in me
Oh, I say I did it.
Always searching
You can't fuck with me.
So instead you'll taste my pain.
You say your life I'm taking
Always bothering me.
I can't take this anymore,
I'm failing, always smothering me.
You look down on me
Ain't what you see
Take this gift from me
You will soon become me!
Nothing seems exciting,
Always the same hiding, hiding.
It's haunting (or hunting?) me. It's haunting me. It's haunting me.
It's haunting me. It's haunting me.
*** *** ***
Sometimes Dr. Sylvia Masters rued the day she chose to go public
with her mutation. She'd expect hate mail, maybe a death threat or
two. She hadn't expected her career to skyrocket. It seemed people
were more than willing to accept a mutant if it was somehow
beneficial to them, and apparently they found a psychiatrist who
could go into their minds and deduce their problems just that. Now,
she had appointments booked almost everyday of the year and more
talk show appearances than she ever cared to do. The latest was
Oprah the next day. Her agent�since when had she needed an
agent?�said that really meant she'd hit the big time.
Still, the money was nice. If only she had the free time to spend it.
She lay her head down on her desk, wondering if she could even
muster up the energy to commute back home. It wouldn't be the first
time she passed out at her desk.
Sylvia put her head down, and just as she was beginning to fall
asleep, the phone rang. She sighed, picking it up. "Dr. Masters,"
she said, faking a perky tone.
"Hey, sis."
Sylvia immediately lost the perkiness. "Hey, Jimi. Why are you
calling me now?"
"Mama's in the hospital again. And not rehab this time, Sylvie. The
doctors say she might die."
Sylvia sunk lower in her chair. As if she needed this right now.
"Jimi, I can't. I just can't�"
"Sylvie, she's our mother."
"Yeah, well, why don't you remind her of that once and a while,"
Sylvia snapped.
"You know, you're supposed to be a top-notch psychiatrist. Can't you
treat yourself for anger and resentment issues or something?"
"Don't start with me, Jimi," Sylvia snapped. "You were the baby. You
didn't have to take care of Mama nearly as much as I did!"
"Not until you left us!"
"Yeah, well, I was sick of cleanin' vomit off the floor and draggin'
her drunk ass to bed!"
Jimi sighed. "That was the past, Sylvia. She wants you here now."
"I have a life. I can't walk away from it."
"I never thought I'd see you this selfish."
"I've given that woman enough."
"Fine. You're all big and living in a real city now. That's fine.
Forget us back home."
"Jimi�"
"Bye, Sylvia."
Sylvia heard the click, then the dial tone as her brother hung up.
She slammed the phone down angrily. If he wanted to waste his time
worrying about that woman fine, but she'd done it enough for one
lifetime. She grabbed her purse and coat and left the office.
*** *** ***
Victor eyed the blonde woman sitting on his couch, eating chocolate
ice cream and watching Oprah. He saw her put another spoonful in her
mouth and wondered where she put it all. She ate like no one he'd
ever seen, but never seemed to gain a pound.
"Heidi, you think you could turn that off? Whiny women give me a
headache."
Heidi looked at him blankly. "I not understand, Mr. Creed�"
Victor muttered to himself. He knew the woman spoke more English
than she let on. "LARRY!" he bellowed. "Come do something about yer
woman!" Victor paused and turned to the television, something he
heard catching his attention. A small, plain woman with a
conservative business suit and brown hair pulled into a bun was
talking to Oprah. Creed thought she looked like she'd make a bad lay.
"So your abilities make it possible for you to cure anyone of any
psychological ailment?" Oprah asked.
"Well, I can't say that exactly," the woman replied. "Too much
potential for a lawsuit. But I have been able to help everyone who's
come to me so far."
"And how exactly do you do that?" Oprah asked.
"Well, I'm a certified psychiatrist, but I'm also a telepath.
Through my own 'gift' and my training, I'm able to diagnose a
patient's problem, then find the exact root of that problem in their
mind, helping them to find a cure so to speak."
Victor had heard enough. "LARRY!" he bellowed again.
Larry appeared this time. Small and hunched, Larry looked like the
sort of man just right for scaring small children. How he'd ended up
with Heidi was beyond Victor. "You want Heidi to turn off the
television, Mr. Creed, sir?" Larry asked.
"I did, but I don't anymore. Now I want you to find me where this
shrink on T.V. lives. I want to set up an appointment."
Larry raised his eyebrows. "You want to what? I thought you hated
psychiatrists."
"Well I want to talk to this one. Ask Heidi what her name is."
Larry said something to Heidi in her own language, and she replied
with a heavily accented "Dr. Sylvia Masters."
Victor's eyes lit up, like a predator sensing prey. "Find her,
Larry. Call me when you do." He walked out of the room, leaving
Larry alone to mumble about not being paid nearly enough for what he
went through.
