Free Hillary_Tail of the Dog by Angel Gelique

eyes wide in terror, her lip white from tension, except where the blood settled before slowly trickling down her chin. She shook her head wildly now.
    “Nooooo,” she panted softly.
    “You’re safe, Hillary. No dream can ever hurt you. Tell me what you see in your mind.”
    “Nooooo, nooooo....” she continued to shake her head.
    “Is it a creature? Something you don’t recognize? A monster…like the one from your other dream?”
    Hillary nodded slowly. Tears filled her eyes. Her fists remained clenched and she bit down on her lip again, ignoring the pain she must have felt.
    “It’s not real, Hillary. Keep reminding yourself that it’s just a dream, no matter how horrific it is.”
    Hillary shook her head. She refused to talk about the dream.
    “Okay...let me ask you this...what do you look like in the dream?”
    “NO!” she shouted and shook her head violently to get her point across. “Leave me alone! Get out of here, I hate all of you!”
    “I’m sorry, Hillary...I didn’t mean to upset you. Do you even remember what you look like for real? Do you want me to show you?”
    Hillary didn’t answer. She stopped shaking her head and stared blankly at him. Dr. Bentley waited, knowing that he had piqued her curiosity.
    After a full couple of minutes, he stood up.
    “I guess there isn’t anything more to discuss today then—” he said.
    “Wait...” Hillary said softly. “I...can I see myself in a mirror?”
    Dr. Bentley nodded. He smiled at her as he stood up.
    “I’ll be right back,” he replied and left the room, leaving the recorder on the chair after pressing the pause button. While he was gone, Hillary wondered what she looked like. She had never thought about it before now. She could tell by seeing strands of her hair that she had honey blonde hair. Monica had brushed her hair a few times and always commented on how thick and pretty it was. What color were her eyes? She couldn’t even remember the simplest, most basic facts about herself.
    Dr. Bentley returned moments later carrying a small hand mirror with a red plastic frame. He pressed a button on the recorder to resume recording. Then he smiled as he stood before Hillary and held the mirror before her so that she could see herself. Hillary gasped.
    “I’m not hideous,” she said, sounding relieved. “I’m not a monster!”
    “Of course not...you’re a beautiful young lady,” Dr. Bentley said.
    She was indeed beautiful, despite the dark, puffy circles under her eyes from crying and sleep deprivation. She had hazel-colored eyes like Dr. Bentley had never seen before. They looked deep and endless, like exploded nebulae, strewn with flecks of gold, copper and deep—almost metallic looking—blue. She had eyes that captured your attention and nearly hypnotized you. When she cried, it intensified the shades of blue. It took a great effort for Dr. Bentley to resist her wishes. He wanted to untie this poor, weak, vulnerable child, to free her from her nightmares. He could hardly stand to see how pitiful she looked, glancing at herself in the mirror, as if seeing her reflection for the very first time. What had she expected to see? Did she really not know how beautiful she was?
    “Is that really me?” she asked in disbelief.
    “It’s you. What did you expect to see?”
    “Someone ugly...disfigured...scary.”
    “You’re none of those things. You are perfect from head to toe,” he said with a thin smile as he threw back the sheets. The smile left his face and he let out a short gasp as he stared, partly in disbelief, mostly in awe. All of the other times that he had visited Hillary, she had been clad in a loose-fitting hospital gown. Now, here she was, fully naked, bound to a bed, legs spread apart all too invitingly. Her nipples hardened with the sudden exposure even though the room was warm. He marveled at how supple her breasts looked as his eyes roamed down to peek at the opening between her legs.
    Dr. Bentley felt a familiar