"I'd really like to help you, ma'am," he said. "I'd really like to help you, but I'm afraid I can't."
"But...but my son, he's dying! You're a doctor, surely you can do something?" the woman said. She was sweating and breathing heavily.
"Look, I can see you're in quite a state over this, but I'm not the one you need to talk to."
"But you're a doctor!" she screamed. "My son is sick and he needs a doctor!"
The doctor lowered his spectacles and leaned forwards over his desk. He tried to be as calming as he could.
"Ma'am, I am indeed a doctor. I treat-"
"Then WHY CAN'T YOU HELP ME?"
"I treat people with physical illnesses. Your probl-"
"He IS physically ill, can't you see?" she said, gesturing to the chair next to her.
"I'm afraid, ma'am, that I'm not the kind of doctor you need. You need to see a doctor who treats illnesses of the mind."
"Doctor, what do you mean? This is my son! He's not insane, he's sick!" She pointed to the chair again.
It was empty.


A/N: Another attempt at the 200 word story, lemme know what you think! Reviews are returned :)