"Lyndsay!" The voice was low, blending disappointment and chastisement. Robert had come into view atop the stairs and was walking up the hall towards her.
Ah busted. "Hey Bob!" She pushed herself up from in front of her broken door and moved further down the hall to meet him, kissing his cheek.
"Don't 'Hey Bob' me little lady, you should know better than to eavesdrop on your mother's sessions." He handed her a carrier bag. "Go into your room and clear out around the door. I'll be fixing it up whilst you speak with Dr. Mary." His stern eyes twinkled as a small smile stretched out his beard. "I got you this whilst I was out. To apologise. For yesterday." Both of their heads lowered slightly.
"It's fine Bob. Honest. I was being a ... I was being out of line."
Bob smiled at her. "Nice catch. And yes, you were, but I should never have done that. Have hit you. I'm sorry. I hope we can move past it. But again, there's a lot you aren't aware of Lyndz ..." His voice and face grew softer. "And whilst learning more about it is a good idea, listening in isn't the best way to achieve that." He pulled her into a one armed squeeze. "I'll talk to your mother whilst I do the work here and you see Jonathan. See if we can clear the air." He pulled back as a voice rang up the stairs, calling for Lyndsay. "Speak of the doctor and he shall appear." Bob grinned. "Now put that in your room and clear anything important away from the door."
Lyndsay smiled up at him and pushed open the door. Picking up a picture from the unit inside and laying it on the bed below the bag he had given her, nestling the helmet alongside them she turned and ran by him, down the hall and stairs to the floor below.
"Ah Lyndsay," the doctor had returned to the dining table which he had stacked with a few folders and notebooks and looked up at her. Her mother was nowhere to be seen.
"Dr Mary." Lyndsay sat down across from him and folded her arms.
"I've told you that you can call me Jonathan, or John, if you wish." He closed the book he had been writing in and slipped it into a file to his right. Reaching to the left he pulled forward two folders. "How are you feeling today Lyndsay? I heard from your mother about last night. Would you like to share your perspective?"
"No."
A few moments of silence followed, broken by John coughing. "Let's review your schoolwork. Are the modules challenging enough? I've been getting good feedback from your lecturers in regards to most of your subjects, but your last essay on sarcopenia was focused entirely on emotional and psychological causes rather than the requested focus on long-term physical inactivity, and your sociology tutor is still concerned about your approach to field trips. If I remember correctly, last time we addressed how your agoraphobia translated into the virtual environment it seemed you were transferring well. Has anything changed? Your logs show that you still typically only spend three or four hours a day on your subjects, and that's usually heavily disjointed. The rest has all been dedicated to gaming. Even with the time-dilation of being in a virtual environment, with your course-load, that's still on the low end of what would be expected. Are you doing any work out here in the real world?"
"No, it's all done on the ProTN, and I know it doesn't take me long, but I'm doing a lot! And I'm even doing a lot of extra-curriculars and extra-credit work. It just-" Lyndsay paused to think for a moment, "it just takes me less time I guess. I can concentrate more easily. I understand things better, knowing that I don't have to get them done to a schedule. That I can decide on when. It's just, I mean, I love that I can do all my classes when I want. And that I can just think my answers, and research stuff like immediately. That really helps of course. Having that control. But still, going out, even if it's in a fake world ..." Lyndsay paused again. John, pen paused, looked at her, waiting. "I can't control anything there. I feel trapped. Violated somehow. Like I've been captured." She worked her jaw as she was thinking, making her lips contort, leaning forward with her arms open on the table. When she next spoke, John had to lean forward to catch her words. "I feel like I'm being used. And I don't know why." She cleared her throat. Sat up straighter. "But Bob, Robert, he entered me into a draw to get early access to this new game, and I won, and it's so so life-like, even though it looks like a cartoon. It's like a dream."
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
"Camorra?"
"Yeah! I know that I've been focusing on it a lot, but I've been doing so well with my lessons, despite Madeline not liking my essay. The whole point of my doctorate is to study the long-term mental effects. Regurgitating what fifty other books in the library say isn't going to help me or anyone else. But I thought I could use the time there to focus on research that would help my thesis and address the causes of atrophy and it's not like what I submitted didn't meet the curriculum, it just wasn't what she wanted. She only asked for us to focus on that because she doesn't understand anything to do with neurology." She took a deep-breath, and when she spoke again voice carried a slight ring of self-satisfaction. "I'd only just started my character yesterday. The one I plan to keep I mean. And it seemed like so much had changed now the game has been released. I was just getting ready to properly explore when ... when, when what happened happened."
"What did happen Lyndsay?"
"My mother went crazy again. Likely looking for her cigarettes. So she can deal with her failure of a life."
"And did you take them?" Dr. Mary looked across at her.
"No! I don't smoke! That stuff will kill you."
"What do you do, Lyndsay? How do you deal with the problems in your life?" She noticed his eyes rising from where she had clasped her hands on the table, his gaze locking onto her, causing her to shift uncomfortably.
"I ... do my homework." God that's sad. "I focus on learning. And I game. I guess I game a lot. I think maybe, hopefully, I'll start to play Camorra. It looked so real, and yet I didn't feel overly trapped. Maybe just a little bit. I'm hoping, I hope maybe I might meet a few new people, people who I haven't known since ... since before he left. And I can get used to being outside. Being in situations I can't control." She looked across at him innocently.
"Well you certainly aren't taking any acting classes, but if you feel comfortable being in a world as vast as Camorra's then I'll definitely suggest that you're allowed to indulge in it. Assuming you keep your grades up. Whereabouts are you? Have you met Aphid yet? Are you having any other issues whilst playing"
"You play it Dr. Mary?" Kennedy looked across genuinely surprised and open-mouthed. "Are you a doctor there to?
"Maybe just a little bit." He smiled at her. "And don't tell anyone but no, I'm not a healer. I fancied a bit of a change when it came to my own R and R. What about you?"
"I haven't gotten that far yet. Dolor-, my mother, she pulled the helmet off of me before I got far enough to choose anything." The doctor started forward at this. "Oh. She didn't tell you that part?" Kennedy sat back looking smug.
"No, she did not. I think I've enough time left for us to have another group session before I leave today. We can drive home how ..." John's tongue flicked across his lips as he thought for a moment, "reckless that was. Are there any other issues? No feeling overwhelmed amongst the crowds? Enclosed by the trees or tunnel walls?"
Kennedy thought about the ringing of the hammer. Chewed her lip. "No Dr. Mary. None that I can think of."
"Okay, that's good. I'll suggest to your parents that you finding a new hobby as immersive as Camorra can be beneficial. Again as long as you make your grades the priority and don't get too addicted." He smiled at her again. "Believe me, I know first-hand how it can get under your skin. I only got to start playing yesterday, but I spent a good five or six hours of real time on it." He laughed as he stood up. "The temptation to keep playing was pretty strong. I can see it being a good focus for your research. Just make sure you don't skip out on eating like I did yesterday. Or showering."
"Eww. Gross." She giggled. He is kind of cute ... He must be in his forties though. So old! She watched him as he left the room to fetch her mother and Bob. Settling back down, her eyes fell on the files Dr. Mary had left on the desk.