In the Rear View

I couldn't get the images out of my head. Then I heard the voice again.

"Why didn't you help me?"

I could feel my body twitch as the words invaded my dream.

"Why didn't you help me?"

"I TRIED TO HELP YOU," I cried, "BUT YOU WEREN"T THERE!" Just then I felt a hand on my shoulder. I jumped from my chair in fright. As I turned around and saw Marc Andrews. The 6' 1" ad executive had a file in his hand and a concerned look on his face.

"Are you okay," he asked as he started to step back.

"What," I said, with a puzzled look on my face. "Yeah, Yeah, I'm sorry. I had a bad night last night."

"Heh, yeah, I can see that," he said with a smirk on his face while staring at the bruise on my forehead.

"So, what were you saying," I asked as I moved back over to my desk while still trying to catch my breath.

"I was wondering why you didn't help me with the Lauder account," he said as he tossed the folder on my desk. It hit a small stack of papers, which began to slide.

I leaned over to grab the file and opened it. "It looks good, and you're right," I said while shaking my head up and down. "I meant to help you this morning, but I had such a horrible night."

"Well, I'm sorry that you had a bad night," he snapped, "but I was here at 4 a.m. like we discussed in order to get this done." Marc then leaned across my desk and snatched the folder from me and left the room. It was at this point that I just couldn't take it any longer and decided to call you, doctor. I appreciate you seeing me on such short notice. I know you're extremely busy. So, what do you think? Am I going crazy?"

"Well," Doctor Bean said, "I really only have one question."

"Okay," I said as I started to get up from the couch to look at the doctor. "What is your question?" I turned to look at him and I could feel the hair on the back of my neck stand on end as a chill shot down my spine. It was the little boy in the chair, who, continued to stare at me with a sad expression.

"Why didn't you help me?"