It’s really hot in here. Maybe not hot, but muggy. Yep, muggy. I can feel the grease and beads of sweat caked all over my guilty face. I can smell it. Hell, the whole damn waiting room can. I’m covered in guilt. With every thought that enters my head it is echoed by each painfully slow tick of the clock on her desk. She’s staring at me constantly. That red headed, slim, vixen eyed receptionist whom I have done nothing but reciprocated with an empty glazed look. Her piercing emerald eyes are stabbing through my best efforts of composure. Those dark red lips are a beautiful version of the pool he was lying in. STOP. STOP! It happened. I can’t hash all of it out here, and I definitely can’t keep staring at that crime scene of a face. Focus. Breath. RELAX. OK. I’ve gotta take my mind off this. Think. THINK. Start with the alphabet. A. Apples? Axe?!? Jesus, don’t go there! Ok, ants? ANTS! Hmm, fun facts. Anyone here ever sat and watched ants? There’s the workers and then, then there’s the Queen (King in this case)…stop! Anyways, the workers…they slave all day long to build the mound and feed the colony. BUT THAT QUEEN (KING) (HE) She just sits there all day and does NOTHING BUT PUMP OUT BABIES.

That’s what’s wrong with the world; that’s what’s wrong with that hot-shot. He deserved what he got. I work hard every day! EVERY DAY!-Calm down. Okay look around what do you see? Walls…walls…walls, WHERE IS EVERYONE!?! WHAT’S GOING ON?

“Um Sir Dr. Lowry is ready to see you.”

She’s smiling at me? That’s weird…It’s a nervous smile. I can tell it’s the same smile my mother use to give me after Pops had been drinking. He was a great man, but the war had got to him. He used to get the sweats in the night, and he never talked about the war -- ever. He was a hardworking man; always did his job, never complained, and he taught me to do the same. All I do every day is work, and that’s fine. I don’t mind working the mines, it’s a solid job. I come home to my beautiful wife and daughter and they know that I’m working har-
“Sir? The Doctor’s ready.”

“Oh yes, sorry mam” I chuckled, “just got lost in my own thoughts.”

I reluctantly got out of my chair, nervous about the decision I had made, but I couldn’t stay quiet any longer; that wasn’t possible. I slowly dragged my feet across the stained wood floor toward the big all wooden door with a gold label screwed into the center of it that read, “DR. LOWRY”. I reached out my hand and felt the cold metal knob and slowly twisted it open. I had entered the room. I had entered my fear of telling the truth--the oh so sweet truth. I stood in the door opening and glanced around the room. It had a nice “classy” feel. The walls were painted a light gray with the white trim that led to the wood floors. The Credenza desk sat dead in the center on top of a green regal rug with two comfy red leather chairs in front. In the middle of gathering my surroundings, I forgot about the doctor. He was sitting in his massive brown leather chair. He had to be about my father’s age, 62. He had an almost bald head with just a little left on the sides that he had slicked over the top. He wore glasses, the big square ones. He was wearing a blue striped button up with red suspenders and black slacks.
A raspy voice said, “Welcome, welcome come in.”
“Hello doc, how are you doing this evening?”
“I’m doing swell, how about you?”
“Well Doc to be honest, I’m not doing so good…”
“Well that’s what I’m here.” Dr. Lowery gestures his hand toward the seats, “Please sit down.”
I chose to sit down in the right chair; the other chair seemed a little too close to the desk. I never liked being close to people. It feels weird. Maybe it’s because subconsciously I never could become too attached to someone. Well, until I met my wife. She was perfect for me. I always wanted to marry a woman like her, and I guess I got lucky. She is the only person that truly understands me, but I know even she would think that what I have done is crazy. Anyone would; they just don’t understand.

“So what’s the matter son? Do you have something you’d like to discuss with me?”

“Well…There is something, but to be honest, I don’t know if I want to tell you. You’d surely think I was crazy, just like everyone else would…”

“You’d be surprised son, I’m a psychiatrist I hear a lot of things most would consider crazy, but I don’t son. I’m here to understand your thoughts and feelings and to help you get through the ‘crazy’ things that have happened to you.”

“Well….Okay Doc, um have you heard of Manifest Destiny? Well, I remember being taught about it in school. The Manifest Destiny was the dream to move west, the chance for people to make something outta themselves, find gold and build themselves a nice house on a big plot of land. So many people tried and a lot didn’t make it, but those that worked hard to make it there were rewarded, and they had their dreams come true. America is the Manifest Destiny. People work hard to get their reward, to live the American Dream! And I work hard every day and what do I get? I get to watch some no callus pansy drive his new cars every morning! Why?!? He doesn’t work hard! He doesn’t get sick from the smoke in the mines, and he DOES NOT deserve anything he’s received. He’s a lying, cheating, greedy no good for nothing!”

I can see the fear in his eyes; he had got a glimpse of how I felt every day when I saw that man. It’s the look I never wanted my daughter to experience. She doesn’t deserve to be afraid. She’s so sweet and kind; the ideal daughter. She does what she’s told, she’s smart, a good Christian, and a loving daughter.

Dr. Lowry began to speak slowly, “Well uh, everyone now and then becomes a little envious. It’s in our nature, son.”

“You misunderstand. I do not envy him in any way. I despise what he stands for. He’s the kind of man my father worked for and told me to never become. I’ve hated people like him since I was a child…And that’s….And that’s why I killed him”

I had to force back a smile that was waiting to release. I couldn’t help but feel the happiness consume me. His screams, oh his beautiful screams, and his look of helplessness. That had to be the best…No wait the blood. The endless amount of blood; the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Well, beside my wife and daughter…even more beautiful than them. Oh God, it was so magnificent!

“Oh my son, what made you do something like that?”

“See I knew you wouldn’t understand! It’s because he’s the Queen Ant! And he’s taking away my Manifest Destiny! What don’t you understand about that?”

“Well, son, that’s what I’m trying to understand. Can you tell me what exactly happened?”
That’s right if, if, I just tell him what happened to me and what I had to deal with every single day, then he’ll have to understand, he’ll just have to. There ain’t no way a man could hear what happened and not come to the same conclusion.

“Well I don’t remember the exact day it started, but I suppose it was a day like any other. I woke up, my wife made breakfast for me and my daughter, and I walked to the nearest bus station in the city. I sat on the bench waiting, and then I saw a man pull up in his brand new red Chevy. I watched him for a while, and I knew that he was an egotistical bastard. From the start I hated him, and every day I watched that scum, something inside me got hot with rage. He was always wearing a business suit and had a suitcase he carried with him. Different women would come and go. He didn’t deserve it. He was a liar, I could tell. He’d come every morning and I’d just watch him come and go. I hated him so much, and finally, one day he looked my way, and he had the audacity to smile and wink at me! Who did he think he was?! And from there on he was always on my mind. I couldn’t get him out of my head! I could hear his voice, I saw his life, and it angered me. I had to end it! I had to kill him! I saw who he was. I knew what he did. He deserved to die. So I skipped work a couple of days, which I am completely opposed to doing, to follow him, waiting for my opportunity to strike! And one night, that trash was drunk and stumbling down the street, so I followed him. He went down a dark alley way and that’s where I attacked. I smashed his head on the brick wall and punched him repeatedly in the face over and over again. He screamed! He cried begging me to stop, and I couldn’t hold myself back from yelling at the top of my lungs ‘Shut up you deserve this!’ And his cries just made me happy! I enjoy every bone cracking punch. Then I started to stomp on his bloody face. I grab a shattered bottle and released all my anger out of his neck, and his blood was my happiness. The endless stress I felt was relieved, the huge amount of weight on my mind was gone. Then, I reached into his pocket hoping to find a wallet. I had to know the poor bastards name. Charleston O’Bryan. The name itself is the epitome of the very man my father warned me not to become. So, that’s why doc. That’s why I killed him.”
“But son, your name is Charleston O’Bryan…”

The room began to swirl around me, the furniture began to change, windows began to appear out of nowhere, and I couldn’t stop it. My head started pounding. The pain felt like a mass amount of pressure being pushed through my eyes. What was happening to me? If I could only stop it! Please God make it stop! Suddenly, it stopped. The room stopped spinning, and everything became clear. I was sitting in my executive office. I looked up to see Dr. Lowry, and there in front of me was my lawyer, Henry.

“Charleston what’s going on? Is this a joke?” He began to laugh, “Oh man you got me good.”

I forced a smile but I knew I had lost it for a moment. I walked over to the mirror and looked at myself. I was wearing a blue striped button up with red suspenders and black slacks. I had my hair slicked over the top with thick black squared framed glasses. I was an old man; the old man I thought was a psychiatrist. It was all a mirage.
“Henry, please call my wife. I need to speak with her immediately.”
“Mr. O’Bryan you don’t have a wife, are you feeling okay?”

My heart sank. Could this be true? Deep down, I knew it was.

So, in the end, I despised the man I became and the dreams I didn’t achieve. I could feel icy chills in my body. I was alone in this world.
“Henry, can you take me to the bus stop?”
“Of course, Sir. I was heading into town anyway, but you know I could just drive you to where you need to be.”
“No, I think I’d rather take the bus today.”

We drove to the bus stop, and Henry dropped me off and I sat there and began to think….
Then I saw a man pull up in his brand new red Chevy. I watched him for a while and I knew that he was an egotistical bastard.