September 2009 — Dead Teenagers at Make-out Point

The gentleman smiled wickedly then said, “Over the last six months five of your patients have managed to get over your abusive and degrading treatment and actually forgiven you.”

Graham shook his head and looked at his ledger again. This time there appeared to be five less entries and the total was sitting at seventy.

“The longer this takes the more I lose these bastards.”

“Don’t take it to heart,” the gentleman said. “Causing seventy people to become filled with hate and resentment is not an easy feat. If you try harder though, you may be able to fuck the worst patients up enough to kill themselves. Suicide is a guaranteed keeper for your list.”

“I can’t get another thirty souls by the end of the year!”

“That is not my concern, Mister Graham,” the gentleman said. “The deal was one hundred souls for remission of your cancer and an extension on your life.”

“But it isn’t worth it. I can’t handle it anymore. These patients have severe problems and come to me for help. I’m killing them or fucking them up so much that their life isn’t worth living.”

The gentleman slowly closed the diary, put it in his coat, and stood up.

“Three months Mister Graham, unless you wish to settle your account now?”

Graham shook his head again and stared at the ledger.

“Ten souls a month…” he mumbled as the gentleman walked out of his surgery.

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