PSYCHOPHILIA: A Disturbing Psychological Thriller Read Online Free PDF

is barely beyond childhood but already feels the need to protect that which
she has created, and I think again of how I had considered hiring a boat and
killing both myself and the early life inside of me.  There is a boy who sits
alongside her wondering how life played such a cruel trick on him.  His arms
are folded tightly across his chest, his eyes half closed.  I feel sorry for
him because he looks scared, and I feel envious of her because he is here.  I
feel sad for myself that I am alone.  It is not how I imagined this.  I catch
my reflection in the nearby aquarium and I realise that my hair looks like
grass blades covered in droplets of spring dew, perfect for Gregory to trample
through.  The frost has crept into my hair and in the heat of the hospital it
has started to melt.  I flatten it down, conscious of my scar which has begun
to pulsate.  I have the beginnings of a headache.
    “Mrs.
Astor,” a voice says before looking up to meet my gaze.  “Mrs. Astor,” he says
again.  He is impatient.  He sees me walking towards him and he realises that he
knows me and so starts tracing through the clustered compartments of his brain
to work out where from. 
    “I
am your estate agent,” I say.  I am not one for guessing games, and I do not
like to play haven’t-we-met-somewhere-before.  I was with him only two hours ago. 
I forget enough already so I have no desire to play around with the things that
I do remember.  I don’t believe that he has forgotten me, and I am irritated at
his display of pretend confusion and my headache feels immediately worse.
    “Of
course,” he says, “come in, take a seat.”  I was unimpressed at the house
viewing when he decided to help himself to a coffee from the pot, and then
complained that it was cold.  The old fashion iron that had been placed on the
windowsill in a decorative nod to the past seemed a good object with which to
strike the back of his head, and I believed that it would ease my irritation,
but instead I took his cup from him and heated it in the microwave.  He is
young for a consultant, and I wonder if he is my only option.  I have
investigated the option of private hospital care and suggested several options
to Gregory but he was of the opinion that the local hospital was better.  He
hadn't performed any research.  It was simply his opinion.  I know this because
he told me so.  Here I am.
    He
asked me a few questions about my medical history, which for the most part is short
and uninspiring.  He checked the results of the blood tests which my midwife
had taken earlier.  She is a pleasant, chubby lady, like I might be if I wasn’t
careful with food and if I tried to smile more.  He tells me that everything is
satisfactory and that I should get onto his couch.  I ask him to clean the
couch first, and whilst surprised, he obliges my request.  He makes a show of
cleaning the probe and I appreciate his effort and consider that I may have
judged him too soon.  I lie down as he instructs me too and within one minute
there is a lump of grey matter flashing up on the screen as he wobbles a
jellified probe around on my belly.  It jiggles in and out of view, revealing a
gaping hole in the middle, black and at first empty.  As he rocks the probe
back and forth I see something that looks like a fish swimming out at me,
flipping in and out of view as his imaginary tail beats left and right.  Then
the sound of life fills my ears, whooshing along at pace.  Gushhush, gushhush,
gushhush, gushhush.  He turns to me and smiles.  I am pregnant, he tells me.  I
wipe a little tear from the side of my face and manage an unconvincing smile. 
He looks confused by my reaction.  I am confused, too.
    He
points to the screen with his oversized fingers, almost covering the tiny fleck
of life that he wants to show me.  His voice has changed a bit, and now he
sounds encouraging, like the voice of a parent to a small child who needs
nothing more than a gentle