~~Jay's (Louis's mum) POV~~
Louis has been here for almost a week and I'm worried. He barely comes out of his room. I haven't seen him eat in at least a day. There's no sound coming from his room. Every time I walk in he's either lying in his bed sleeping or sitting at the window staring out at nothing. When I ask him what's wrong he says nothing; I obviously don't believe it. The girls are seeing it, too. That's what worries me the most. I don't want them seeing their brother like this. I just wish I knew what to do.
I've called Harry and Eleanor but Harry never answers and Eleanor doesn't help much. She is just as worried about Louis, but she is also worried about Harry. She wants to try and help him since he is still in London with them. She is hoping that I can fix Lou while she fixes Harry. Apparently he is just as bad, if not worse. We really need to fix this but I don't know what to do. Louis doesn't want to see Harry. When I ask him if it would be okay if Harry came to visit he starts to scream about how much he never wants to see him again. But after I leave the room I hear him crying in his room.
It's awful as a mother to watch your son deteriorate in front of your eyes. Especially when there isn't anything you can do to stop it.
~~Liam's POV~~
It's been a few days since Zayn and I made up and everything is perfect again. Well at least between us. We are talking more and spending more time together. The one thing we've been doing a lot is talking about how we are feeling. That way it doesn't build up and then we explode like we did before. It really has been helping. I haven't been angry at Zayn for anything these past few days. It's been like heaven. I just wish I could say that absolutely everything was perfect.
Harry is a complete mess. He never leaves his room other than to get food. When I do see him he smells horrible, like he hasn't showered in days, which I don't think he has. His eyes are always red and puffy like he just cried. He also is always wearing long-sleeved shirts and pants which is really odd when it's summer here and almost 90 degrees every day.
He never talks to us. We ask him how he's doing and he just stares off into space. When we go out we ask him to tag along and he just shakes his head and goes back to bed. Anytime we poke our heads in his room he is in his bed cradling a pillow. I just don't know what to do with him. It's like I am watching the Titanic head straight for the iceberg and instead of telling them to move, I'm just watching and waiting for it to happen.
It's horrible watching your best friend deteriorate right in front of your eyes and not being able to help him in any way.
~~Niall's POV~~
Harry and I have never been super close. He was Louis's boyfriend but that was really it. We weren't mean to each other at all and we hung out sometimes but that was it. So I don't really know him, but I know that whatever the thing in his bedroom is it isn't him. He doesn't like staying in bed all the time. He likes going out and having fun and just loving life. But he hasn't shown any emotion on his face other than despair in at least a week.
I've tried talking to him. I sometimes go in his room and sit next to him on the bed. But when I do he pushes me off and mumbles something and caresses the spot where I sat. I wish I could say that he wasn't crazy but I'm not confident I can. It's like he has completely lost his sanity. He's gone around the bend as some people say.
I've talked to El about it and she is just as worried. She says that she has talked to Louis's mum and he is just as bad. Not leaving his room; not eating; crying a lot. The only problem is that he is hours away and is even harder to help. If we can't help Harry when he is down the hall, there is no way in hell that we will ever help Louis.
It sucks watching your friends go completely blank and not being able to help them. I just wish there was something we could do.
~~Eleanor's POV~~
Everything is just fucked up. Harry is a freaking zombie. Jay's words make me think that Louis isn't doing any better. Neither of them are eating or leaving their rooms. They just mope around and cry, a lot.
Zayn and Liam got back together a few days ago. That was a nice thing to hear. A little bit of sunshine during Hurricane Larry. But that's the only sunshine we are getting. I think I'm going to talk to the others about Harry seeing a therapist. We aren't getting anywhere with him. Maybe a licensed professional can help him.
~Two hours later~
I take a seat on the couch and Niall sits next to me. A minute later Liam and Zayn walk in hand-in-hand and sit down opposite us in the arm chair. Zayn obviously sits on Liam's lap. They all look at me expectantly, since I was the one who called us together.
"Well I have been thinking a lot about the Harry/Louis situation. We haven't been able to get anywhere with either of them. I've already talked to Jay and she has agreed with me on this," I state plainly. They all continue to look at me wanting to know the thing I am talking about.
"I think it would be best if Harry and Louis went to see a therapist," I say quietly looking down at my lap. I'm hoping they will take this well but I don't know. Some people are really touchy about therapist subjects. Luckily, no one starts yelling or screaming in disgust.
"I think that that's a great idea, El," Liam says smiling at me, "I'm sure they could get through to them. That's what they are paid to do anyway." I smile back at Liam for the support. One person down, two to go.
Niall just nods his head and flashes me a small, reassuring grin. Zayn reacts nearly the same as Liam does, "so when can we get him I think we should try and go this as soon as possible."
"Well I researched and called some offices in the area and one doctor, Doctor Lloyd, said she could see him tomorrow morning. I told her to just book it, and that we would call and cancel if we ended up not doing it. She said that was fine," I say confidently. Thank The Lord they are okay with this. I thought I would have to fight them tooth and nail, "now we just have to talk to Harry about it. But I imagine he won't be as easy to convince."
"Yeah, no. Harry doesn't like doctors of any kind. In high school he'd always complain like a baby when his mum would sign him out to go for a check-up. But I think he secretly liked the prostate exam, if ya know what I mean," Liam says laughing really hard. We all look at him, shocked at what he said. Niall doubles over and rolls off the couch laughing. Zayn whispers something in Liam's ear and his face turns red. I don't even want to know what he said.
"What's so funny?" A voice asks from the hallway. I look over to see Harry standing there looking tired and confused. He walks over and sits on the end of the couch.
"Liam was just talking about how you hate the doctors, but love prostate exams," Zayn says smirking as the words leave his mouth. For the first time in days Harry's face actually shows a happy emotion.
"So what if I did? You guys are gay, too. Tell me you don't like someone penetrating you. Especially, you, Liam. We all know about the gas station stop on the way here," Harry says, owning up to everything. Liam's face turns best red on his words and he hides behind Zayn.
"Hey, Li. There's nothing wrong with being a bottom," Zayn says caressing Liam's face, "I think wanting to be a bottom is super sexy," he says kissing up Liam's neck and finally to his lips. Liam's face goes back to a normal shade. Niall finally, after all this time, gets off the ground and stops laughing.
"Hey, why were you talking about me and doctors anyway?" Harry asks becoming curious. Zayn, Liam, and Niall all freeze up and look at me. I'm guessing I'm going to have to talk about this.
"Well we are really worried about you, Harry. And we thought that maybe it would be good if you went to see a therapist," I say quietly, waiting for this reaction. I don't have to wait long for one; he stands up and starts to yell, really, really, loud.
"A therapist?! You think I'm crazy! I'm not crazy! There is nothing wrong with me! What the fuck, guys?!" He yells, looking at all of us. Liam gets up and stands in front of him.
"Harry, calm down. We don't think you are crazy. You just haven't been yourself and we think talking to someone about Louis would help" Liam says to him calmly. Harry just paces back and worth shaking his head.
"I'm not a fucking lunatic! I'm not going to talk to anyone!" He yells before storming out of the living room and down the hall to his room. A door slams, shaking the whole house, and we all flinch at the loud sound.
"Well that didn't go well..." Liam says slumping down on the arm of Zayn's chair. I shake my head and lean back on the couch.
"Let's just give him some time to think about it and maybe he'll change his mind," I state optimistically, "he's just caught off guard. He thinks we are attacking him and he's afraid."
Niall and Zayn nod their heads in agreement.
"Hopefully he'll come around. Because if he doesn't, then I really don't know what to do. He's completely lost himself," Liam says defeated. He stands up and walks to his room. Zayn says goodbye to us and follows him a few moments later.
I can't believe that didn't work. Well I can, but I thought that it wouldn't. I was hoping, praying, that Harry would just think that it was a wonderful idea and practically walk himself into the office. I'm just trying to fix this and nothing is working.
"Hey, babe," Niall says, noticing my upset look on my face, "everything will be okay. We will come around. We are going to get out Harry back," he says wrapping his arms around me.
"I hope we do. I already lost Louis I can't lose Harry, too," I say wiping the developing tears from my eyes, "I just hope that Jay is having better luck with Louis."
~~Louis's POV~~
I'm woken from my sleep by a knock on the door. I roll over in the bed and look at the clock on the nightstand. It's already one o'clock in the afternoon. Groaning I sit up in my bed and signal for the knocker to come in. I look up when I hear the door creak open. It's my mum standing in the doorway.
"Afternoon, BooBear! Did I wake you?" She says happily. The enthusiasm in her voice disgusts me. I nod my head angrily and mumble under my breath. She says oh in a disappointed-that-I-was-still-sleeping tone.
"Well I was wondering if we could have a little talk. Could you come down into the living room please?" She says a little calmer than her previous words. I grunt a yes out and she smiles. She leaves, closing the door behind her, and I hear her feet pad down the stairs. I slump back down into the sheets and stare up at the ceiling. Why can't I just sleep forever? Why do I ever have to move out of this bed ever again?
Reluctantly, I manage to climb out of the bed and make my way to the closet. Once I find a suitable outfit, a pair of pyjama pants and a loose, V-neck, white T-shirt, I head out of the room and down the stairs. When I make it to the living room I find my mum sitting on the couch and Fizz and Lottie sitting in the chairs across the coffee table from her.
"What is this, an intervention or something? I ask half sarcastic and snotty half serious. Lottie and Fizz exchange an awkward moment of eye contact and a stiff smile forms on my mum's face. When no one answers I take a seat on the couch and look between the three expectantly. My mum clears her throat, ending the few seconds of awkward silence, before speaking.
"We, Lottie, Fizz, and I, have notice some changed in you over the past few days. You aren't really being yourself. You're not eating, you sleep almost all day, and you never leave the room other than to go to the bathroom, which isn't that often to begin with," she says reaching her hand out and resting it on mine, "we are worried about you, Lou."
I stare at her for a moment waiting for her to crack a smile and say that she's kidding. When that moment doesn't come I look to Lottie and Fizz and they look just as serious, "Are you guys serious?" I say shocked and confused, "there's nothing wrong with me. I'm just tired a lot. I think you guys just need to calm down." I say scoffing at them. They are being ridiculous.
"Well we were thinking, actually it was Fizz's idea, that you could talk to someone. It might help to get some of the stuff you are holding in out of you," my mum says looking at Fizz for a moment then back at me. I just stare bug-eyed at her. Does she really think I'm depressed or crazy or something?
"Seriously? You think that something is wrong with me? I'm not crazy mum. I'm fine," I say getting defensive. I don't like when people call me stuff I'm not, "all three of you need to just calm the hell down. I'm completely normal. Maybe you guys just forgot what I was like since I didn't live with you for like a month."
Tears start to form in my sister's, Lottie's, eyes. Fizz rubs her back and Lottie wipes the tears away from her eyes. After a few deep breathes she opens her mouth again to speak, "Louis, please, please, don't pretend to be okay. You aren't the fun, silly brother we are used to. And we know what happened and we know what you are going through. Just please don't shut us out. We want to help you; we want our BooBear back." She says more tears forming in her eyes, and a couple falling down the side of her face. Mum reaches for a tissue on the table and hands it to Lottie. She accepts it and uses it to blow her nose and wipe away the stray tears.
"Y-you guys, I'm fine. I pro-" I begin to say before my mum cuts me off, "No, Louis, you aren't. You need to talk to someone, anyone. And if you won't talk to us then you need to see a therapist. We aren't doing this to hurt you. We love you and just want to see you happy again." She says. This time the tears rolling down from her e
I moan and put my face in my hands. I can't believe that think I'm different. I haven't changed. If anyone is crazy, it's them. Maybe I could go. It would at least get them to shut up.
"Fine," I say. Succumbing to their speeches and tears, "I'll go to a therapist. If it will make you happy," I say reluctantly. Their faces light up and mum hugs me lightly.
"Thank you so much BooBear! I promise you, you will feel better. I promise you," she says attempting to assure me. But it really isn't working. I give her a small smile and stand up from the couch.
"Can I go back to my room now?" I ask somewhat annoyed. People really bother me sometimes. My mom nods and stands up as well. I walk out of the room with her on my heels. I reach the stairs and she keeps walking down the hall to the kitchen. As I'm about to walk up the stairs Lottie and Fizz come up behind me.
"Hey, Louis," Fizz says. I turn around and look at them, "thanks for doing this. We know it means a lot to mum, and to us, too. We really love you. And we wouldn't ever do anything to hurt you," she says before her and Lottie follow in mum's footsteps to the kitchen.
'We wouldn't do anything to hurt you.' Mhmm. Sure you wouldn't. That's what he said, and look where we are now. I slowly walk up the stairs and find my way back to my bed. I collapse on it and breathe a sigh of relief. As I get under my blanket and close my eyes a grumble erupts from my stomach. I decide that I don't need to eat since I'm already really fat anyway, and ignore it. Before I know it i'm drifting off into sleep.
((Hey guys! This isn't the end if the chapter. I just wanted to have a small break in between the parts of the chapter. I thought about posting the first half then the second half a few days later but I figured you guys enjoy the chapter all at once :)
So, on a side, random note, I'm going to the Taylor Swift concert in Saturday! Holy poo I'm so excited!! Taylor is like my life! My friend and I didn't get super good seats cuz we bought the tickets last minute but it doesn't really matter to me. I'm going to be in the arena and that's all that matters.
Anyways,. Sorry for my little side rant thing. Here's the rest of the chapter I hope you crickets like it :3 <4))
~~Harry's POV~~
I slam my door and collapse on my bed. I can't believe they think I'm messed up. I'm not. There is nothing wrong with me. I mean yeah I've been cutting recently but that's it. Nothing that I can't handle. I mean I could stop if I wanted to but I'm not doing anybody any harm. And it really does help. It helps me not think about Louis and everything that happened.
I pull up my shirt and expose the plethora of small cuts. They are all only an inch or so, but there are a lot of them. Most of them are healing and almost gone. The only ones that are super visible are the few from this morning but the rest can only be seen from up close.
I put my shirt back down and lay back on the bed. Before I even realise it I'm asleep.
~~Little bit later~~
My eyes shoot open as a booming noise penetrates my ears. I sit up straight and look around the room. The clock on the wall says its five o'clock already. I was sleep for a while.
The door opens and Zayn peaks his head in. I smile at him and he takes it as a signal to walk in. He closes the door and walks over to the bed. After sitting down, he turns to me and stares into my eyes.
"What's up, Z?" I ask confused. Plus, a little freaked out about the staring thHe opens his mouth to talk, but closes it again. His face looks like he is debating something. Eventually he figures out whatever he was thinking and opens his mouth again.
"Harry, we know you don't like the thought of talking to someone, but we really think it can help you. It's not healthy to keep stuff bottled up. If you talk to a therapist you can say anything and it will never leave the room. You can just them," he says grabbing my hands and looking into my eyes, "please do this. For us; For you; for Louis. Think of how Louis would feel if he knew you were acting like this. He wouldn't want to see you like this."
After he says this I really start to think. Louis would be really mad if he knew I was doing this. He'd want me to snap out of it. But I can't. I don't have a life without him. He took my life when he left. Talking to someone won't help get it back.
"Harry," Zayn says. I look back up at him. He is looking at me with a pleading, puppy-dog eyes, "please do this. Please?" He almost begs.
I nod my head slowly and he smiles. His arms go around me and he crushes me in a bear hug. I hug him back and feel a little better. Maybe talking to someone could help me in some way. The worst thing that will happen is that nothing will change and I'll just stop going.
Zayn gets off the bed and heads to the door. Before he leaves he turns around one more time and flashes me a big, toothy smile. I chuckle a little bit and smile back. He shuts the door and I hear his footsteps disappear down the hall.
The next morning I'm waken up by Eleanor pounding on my door. She tells me that my appointment is in an hour and that I need to 'get my sexy ass out of bed.' I laughed at this because I'm definitely not sexy, but get up anyway.
As I walk towards the bathroom I take off all my clothes and throw them in the hamper as I walk by it. In the bathroom I turn the shower on and wait for the right temperature before stepping in. Inside I shampoo and condition my hair quickly. When my hair is rinsed I go to reach for the body wash. As I'm taking it off the shelf the small container that has my razor blades in it tumbles off the shelf and crashes to the ground. The lid comes off and the small, shiny objects scatter all over the shower floor. I rush to pick them up and in the process get a few cuts on my fingers.
Once all the blades are in the container on the shelf I look at my hands and watch the little droplets form where the cuts are. A pulling sensation in my stomach urges me to open the container again but I resist it.
I finish washing my body and step out of the shower. I grab the towel off the rack and quickly dry myself. When I'm done I walk back into the bedroom and head to my closet. I pick out a suitable my-first-visit-to-the-psycho-doctor outfit. Deciding on a pair of dark skinny jeans and a blue blazer, I leave my room and head down the hall.
In the kitchen everyone is sitting at the bar. They look at me and smile when I come out. I smile back and her myself a cup of tea. Eleanor gives me a mini-glare and I look at her confused.
"What's up, El? You're looking at me like I killed someone," I say to her. She rolls her eyes and gets up from her seat.
"You are running late and therefore don't get to have tea. Let's go!" She states, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the door. The rest of the group follow us out and we pile into the lift. On the bottom floor the elevator dings and the doors slide open. We march out and head out of the lobby. Once outside we split up, Eleanor, Niall, and I taking El's car and Zayn and Liam taking Liam's. I get in the back seat and buckle my seatbelt. El and Niall get in and she starts the car and pulls out onto the street.
Five minutes later we pull into the parking lot of a two-story, grey building. We get out and walk towards it. The sign on the top reads:
'Doctor Lloyd, Ph.D., clinical psychologist'
Sighing, I open the door and let the others inside, following after them. The room we are met with is rather small. The walls are painted a light blue and all the furniture is black leather. In the back corner there is a rounded, dark-wood desk with a guy sitting at it.
I walk up to the desk and clear my throat. The guy looks up and smiles, showing off his perfect, straight teeth. His skin is smooth, slightly-tanned, and flawless. His hair is a light brown styled into a quiff. I stop analysing him and realise he is talking to me.
"Hello. I'm Justin and I'm Dr. Lloyd's assistant. Do you have an appointment?" He asks returning to the cliché, tight smile at the end of his sentence. I nod my head and he looks down at his MacBook desktop.
"Okay. Would you be Harold Edward Styles?" He asks saying my full name. A cringe a little bit at it. I really don't like when people call me Harold.
"Um, yeah, that's me," I say quietly. He nods and says that the doctor will be with me shortly. He gestures to the sofas and chairs and I sit down next to the others. They smile at me and Liam rubs my knee reassuringly.
Less than a minute later a door opens behind me and I turn to see a woman, probably Dr. Lloyd, standing in the doorway. She smiles and walks over. Her hair is long, dark-brown, and flows down her back in waves. Her eyes are big and brown and she has high, pronounced cheekbones. When she gets closer I see that her smile is white and pearly, but she has a rather wide gap. She is still gorgeous with it.
She sticks her hand out and I grab and shake it. She does this with the rest of them and looks back at me.
"Would I be right in saying you are Harry?" She says looking into my eyes. I smile and nod. Her face lights up and she smiles more, "Okay I thought so. You look like a Harry. Is it okay if I call you Harry or do you prefer Harold?"
"Oh Harry is fine, thanks," I say grinning at her a bit. She returns it with an over-the-top, fake smile. We head towards the door she came from and enter a long hallway. We start to walk down it and about halfway down she turns into an open doorway. Luckily the room we go into doesn't have the stereotypical, therapist lay-down couch. But a normal, two-person love seat. I take a seat there and she sits in the office chair across from me.
"So Harry how are you today?" She says pulling put a notebook and pen. She looks up at me expectantly and waits for an answer.
"Um pretty good I guess," I say shyly. I don't ever know how to respond to questions like that, "I'm kind of tired. I don't usually wake up this early."
"Okay, good. Now your friend Eleanor said that you went through a pretty bad break up. Wanna tell me what happened?" She's says bluntly. My eyes widen and I stare at her in disbelief. I can't believe Eleanor said that to her. What the hell, El?!
"Um, well we kind of got in a fight and then other stuff happened and then he left and went back to Doncaster. The place where we all used to live before we came here," I say trying to leave out the most horrifying, depressing parts of our break up.
"Well I'm sorry to hear that. Now how long were you guys together? And how close and intimate was the relationship?" She asks, scribbling stuff down onto her notepad and looking back to me.
"We got together at the beginning of senior year last year. So just a few weeks shy of a year," I say answering the first part of the question. I look at the doctor, who is writing something down, and then continue, "We were super close. We actually met when we were six and were best friends. We were inseparable until the summer before high school. Then I was a big dick head and we stopped talking until senior year," I say almost tearing up, thinking about that horrible time.
"Why'd you guys stop talking?" She asks innocently. Not understanding the story. Obviously she wouldn't know, but for some reason the fact that she didn't insulted me.
"Well, um, he said that be loved me. Like more than a friend. And I, being the douche bag that I am, was grossed out and just left his house. I never went back until four years later when we got assigned a project in English together," I say almost crying. But only a single tear left my eyes, rolling slowly down my cheek.
"Mhmm," she says continuing to write, "and why were you disgusted when he said that? What made you leave?"
"I don't really know. I just remember being overwhelmed and afraid," I say quietly. I'm trying to hold back the tears but talking about it is making it hard.
"What were you afraid of? Were you afraid of him? His homosexuality?" She says confidently. I swallow and feel my Adam's apple bob up and down.
"I was afraid of losing him. I knew that people at school always made fun of gay kids. I didn't want them to make fun of me. But at the same time I didn't want to lose Louis. Because I really loved him. But in the end my pride and my ego got in the way and I chose being popular and having people like me over him," I say quietly. This time the tears break free from my tear ducts and cascade down my face.
She gives me a small, saddened smile and reaches over and pats my knee. She leans back and writes a lot down in the notepad. She looks up at the clock on the wall. My eyes follow hers and my eyes almost jump out of my head when I see that has already been an hour.
"Well sadly our time is up. Now I know you were hesitant in seeing me at first but do you think you'd like to come back?" She says standing up from her chair. I nod my head and stand up after her.
"Absolutely! I actually really liked this. I think it helped," I say half lying, not wanting to hurt her feelings, and half truthful. I honestly think that this helped a bit.
"Okay well my assistant Justin can set you up with the next appointment in the waiting room," she says smiling, "it was great meeting you Harry and I hope to see you again soon," she says before opening the door. I give her one last smile and leave the room, walking back the way we came an hour ago.
I reach the door and walk through it exposing the waiting room. The others turn and smile at me when they see me and set down the books, magazines, or whatever they are reading. Eleanor is the first to stand up and walk to me.
"How'd it go?" She says enveloping me in a hug. I nod and smile at her.
"It went pretty well. I think I'm going to come back," I say somewhat happily. Her face lights up and she hugs me again.
"Oh, Harry, that's great. See? We told you this would be helpful," she says. I admit defeat and nod my head.
"You were right, El. Sorry for doubting you," I say. She grabs my cheeks and squeezes them. "Luckily" she forgives me and says she isn't mad.
I walk away from her and up to the desk where Justin is sitting. When I get there he looks up and smiles, "so you'd like to make another appointment?" He asks flashing me a smile. I nod my head and he turns to the computer.
"Okay let's see...she has an opening for the 15 of August which is a week from tomorrow. Is that good?" He says looking back to me. I nod and he puts it in the computer. He hands me an 'Appointment Reminder' card with the date and time on it.
"Thanks," I say smiling at him and turning away from the desk. I walk to where they are all sitting and they stand up at my arrival.
"You guys ready to go?" I ask looking at all of them. They nod their heads and walk to the exit. They go through the door first, me bringing up the back.
"Thanks for coming. Hope to see you soon," Justin shouts from the desk. I give him a friendly nod and leave through the door behind the others.
Well that wasn't too bad. Except for the crying I actually liked that. It was nice talking about it. Especially with someone who doesn't judge, or have any ties to, us. When I talked to the others they would judge me because they were Louis's friends too. It was nice talking, having someone listen, and not have them yell at me. I guess the therapist is a rather good thing.
~~Louis's POV~~
The morning after my mini-intervention my sister, Lottie, woke me up and said my appointment was at ten thirty in the morning. It is now ten twenty and I'm still not out of bed. I'm just really tired and I really don't want to do this. The combination of those two things is completely defeating me in my fight to get out of bed.
Someone knocks softly on the door and my mum pokes her head in, "Hey, BooBear! You almost rea-why are you still in bed?" She asks looking a little upset. I smile awkwardly and she just glares and demands that I get up now. Afraid of what will happen if I don't, I shoot out of my bed and fly towards my closet. I decide to skip a shower since I took one like two days ago. I think I'll be fine. I throw on some sweatpants and a random T-shirt.
When I come galloping down the stairs my mum, two older sisters, and the twins are waiting at the bottom for me. I sigh and look at my mum, "do we all really need to go? I'm a big boy. I can go by myself."
"I know you are but I don't trust that you will actually go. So because of that we are all going. Family trip to the therapist!" She says way too happily. I groan in discontent and my mum shrugs her shoulders at me. We work our way to the family van and we climb in: me in the passenger seat, mum in the driver's, Lottie and Fizz in the middle seats, and the twins all the way in the back row.
Mum starts the car, and pulls out of the driveway. We drive for a little bit, taking many different turns, weaving through the complex city that is Doncaster. At some point we drive past Doncaster High, my old high school, and looks exactly like it did a couple months ago. As we drive by a get a glimpse of the bench we sit at in the morning. I think of the time when I met Harry there before school; the time he introduced me to his jock friends; the first time we kissed in front of his friends and the whole school. The memories flood in and it takes everything in me to not breakdown.
I do, though, let out a small gasp that streaks the attention of my mum next to me. She looks over with a questioning glance and I just smile, pretending like nothing happened. She luckily lets it go and turns back to the road.
About five minutes after that we pull up to the ever-so-familiar Doncaster City Medical Centre (DCMC). I sigh and get out of the car, my family behind me. We walk up the short entrance path and into the main lobby. Above the receptionists' desk is a sign with the various wards and their corresponding floors, hallways, and room numbers. I locate the psychologist pretty quickly and find that it is on the first floor, down the hall from this spot.
I gesture everyone to the left and begin walking. They follow me and we slowly make it towards the door with the sign over it reading: 'Psychologist'. When we get to the door a hesitantly turn the door handle and enter the small waiting room. The waiting room is just like the rest of the hospital; horribly ugly floral wallpaper, grey, rough carpet, and uncomfortable, grey armchairs with even grosser armrests.
Directly to the left is the receptionist's desk and behind it the door to the rest of the office's rooms. The guy at the desk looks up at us and smiles.
"Hello welcome to Doctor Swift's office. How way I help you today?" The pale-faced, fire-red haired guy asks. I begin to speak when the queen, my mother, cuts me off.
"Hi. We are here for Louis Tomlinson's appointment. It was scheduled for ten thirty but we are running a bit late," she states glaring at me when she says the bit about being late. I just roll my eyes and turn away. Luckily the waiting room is empty, so no one can be here to see me getting checked out by the lunatic doctor.
"Ah, Louis. We have been waiting for you," the receptionist, Ed Sheeran I think, based on the name plate on the desk, says, "the doctor is in the room already. You can head back through this door and it's the second door on the right."
I nod at him and send a slightly upset grin to the family. Mum ushers me through the door and I quickly walk down the hall to get rid of her. I stop in front of the door indicated by Ed and look at it. It is rather tall and dark, and extremely terrifying. It looks like it is made from solid steel.
Reluctantly I open the door and am met with a room extremely similar, if not a twin , to the waiting room. Except inside is a cliché, one-person, lay-down couch with a small table next to it with a box of tissues. Across from the couch is the doctor, Doctor Swift, sitting in a high-backed, swivel office chair.
"Hello, Louis," she says smiling, showing off her perfectly white, perfectly straight teeth, "please sit down," she says gesturing to none other than the I'm-depressed-and-insane-and-need-someone-to-talk-to chair. Sadly I lie down in the chair and look up at the ceiling, around the room opposite her, the floor, anywhere but at her.
"Well how are you this morning, Lou?" She asks optimistically, "Is it okay if I call you Lou or do you prefer Louis?" She asks again. I look at her with an I-don't-give-a-fuck face.
"Whatever," I say kind of rudely. I turn back away from her and continue to scrutinise her book shelf of many books. I bet she hasn't even read all of these. Most doctors haven't read all the books they put in their office. They just put them there to look smart. Too bad for Swiftie over here because even with all these books I still get the vibe she is a ditzy airhead.
"Okay, well, where would you like to start?" She says shifting in her chair, "maybe you could tell me why you scheduled the appointment," she says hesitantly, probably afraid she'll scare me off or something.
"I didn't make the appointment. My mum did. She thinks I'm depressed or something. It's really stupid," I say defensively. Why the hell would anyone ever think that I signed myself up for this? I'm not unstable or crazy in anyway.
"Okay why does she think that?" She says a little more forcefully. I think she is getting upset. I don't even know why. At least she gets paid to be here. I'm required to be here. Well not required, but the guilt trip I'd get from my mum would make it required.
"Cause I broke up with my boyfriend and moved back here. She thinks that because I'm tired all the time that I'm depressed. Like that's really stupid. I'm just tired, I don't have some stupid mental disease," I say scoffing. My mum is really stupid for bringing me.
"First off, depression is not stupid, in any way. It is a serious mental condition that many people suffer from. So please say that word in a sympathetic manner," she says bluntly. Obviously getting offended by my response, "and secondly, fatigue is a major side effect of depression. So you could in fact be depressed. Denial comes with it as well."
When she says that, I kind of sink back into my seat. Not only was she kind of scary with her I'm-a-doctor-and-take-diseases-seriously tone, but she flat out contradicted me. Does that mean I really do have a problem, or is she wrong? No, I'm not crazy. I'm not depressed. I'm normal. She is wrong here.
"No matter the major side effects, they don't apply to me. I'm perfectly happy and not a drop of depression runs through me," I say confidently staring at her. She glances down at the pad of paper she has and scribbles something down. A moment later, her head is pointed back up looking at me.
"Okay, Mr. I'm-Not-Depressed, what happened between you and your boyfriend that made you leave?" She asks pompously. I roll my eyes and look back up at the ceiling.
"Stuff," I say rudely, purposely rudely, "none of your business," she writes something else down on the paper and the room is quiet except the scratching of her pen across the paper.
"Okay well maybe next session you can stop being so rude to me and tell me about that stuff," she says standing up and dropping a small sheet of paper on my chest. She then turns and opens and walks out of the door without a door. Speechless, I look down at the piece of paper:
'Mandatory Sessions: This patient, Louis W. Tomlinson, is required to visit this facility at least once a week until the doctor says otherwise.
Reasons for Sessions: signs of severe depression including fatigue, denial, and argumentative behaviour.'
I stare at the paper wide-eyed. She really thinks I'm depressed. Stupid bitch. I get off the couch and walk into the hallway, going the opposite way she went, the way we came from an hour ago.
When I enter the waiting room mum gets up and looks at me hopefully. I just hand her the slip of paper and keep walking out of the office, mumbling an "I'm going to the car" on my way past here. I hear my mum sigh as she read the paper before I leave the office. Stupid bitch. I'm not depressed.
((Aha hey guys. Like the chapter? I wasn't sure if I was going to go down this path with the story. You know the self-harm, therapists, and all that stuBut I decided to and I'm happy I did. I think this was actually pretty good. And it has set up the story for a very interesting last few chapters. We only have five chapters after this :'( it makes me sad. These two books have been my life for the past couple of months.
Anyways I love you guys and hope you really liked this chapter. Like always don't forget to vote, comment, and follow :) <4))