A Poet- continued...

I woke up in a brightly lit room squinting at the lights above me. I had no idea where I was. What happened at my appointment? Did I pass out again? And if I did, then why am I tied down to a chair? As I continued to wonder, someone stepped into the room. He was tall, probably 6ft, with dark brown hair. He had an expression that could kill. It seemed that he was angry about something, but why did he direct it at me? What did I do to this man, this work of God's poetry? Did I somehow miss something or did the doctor send me here? This has to be a joke.

"Why am I here? Can you at least untie me, my wrists hurt?"I asked quietly.

"Not yet, we have to check with the boss, but I can take the ties off." he replied in a deep tember-like voice.

"Th-thanks, I appreciate it." I stutter. Damn, why do I have to stutter. Why can't I be normal?

"You are fine, there's nothing wrong with you." the stranger said. How did he know that I was thinking about that? More importantly, why am I here? Is this a hospital? I doubt it. I wouldn't be tied up, but the man did take the ties off me. Maybe I was irrational.