Not Just Another Anomaly

Well... yesterday was wonderful. A big group of my friends and I went to see the fourth Harry Potter movie- leave us alone- and I had a really good time. We even got to go to Starbucks- yum. I had a blast, and I'm in a good mood because of it. It's weird to think of real life when I'm writing something, because in my world, the two are so separate. The stories I write suck me in completely, and they feel almost as real as my "real" life does. Some might say that this isn't healthy, but I disagree. I love that feeling of losing myself- adrift on a sea of dreams and the twisted plots I've created. It's basically the same thing that happens when I read, except I control the characters, setting, and plot. Hmm... Yes, well... Anyway! Here's a part of a story I was working on a few days ago. It's a scene from my "psycho-Seto" story; it's not the first chapter, so a few things might not make sense. Here goes.

"I'm not crazy."

Dr. Trr(I haven't decided on a name yet...) was surprised, but he didn't let it show. Finally, after three whole sessions, the patient had spoken. Cautiously, he replied, "No one has suggested you are, Mr. Kaiba."

"I'm only here because my younger brother believed it might be good for me. It isn't- the only thing these damned therapy sessions have done is waste my money and my time. I'm not crazy; I'm an intelligent, well-balanced individual. Mokuba has absolutely no reason to be worried." He crossed his arms and scowled.

"Clearly," Dr. Trr said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "You're following the common misconception that all people who see a psychologist are crazy. That isn't the case." He sighed, and made eye contact with the man in the opposite chair. "Well, what do you think made your brother start to worry?"

Kaiba's scowl deepened. "How the hell should I know?" The doctor just sat in a state of prodding silence. Reluctantly, he caved. "Alright, I suppose I can only guess that it is because of the dreams I've been having lately. They're always abstract and strange, and he says that I've woken up screaming a few times, calling out a name that he had never heard."

"And what is this name?"

The level of discomfort the other man was exhibiting visibly rose. "It's not something that I recognize- not really."

*grins* Oh yeah- there we go. I have a little more, but this is all that I'll post for now. I hope I can get this story started soon! Til next time, bye bye bye!

ILB