mentally in love ☼ troyler au

II

Troye

20.01.15

12:30 p.m.

I woke up 5 minutes earlier. Where was Dr. Winston? Is he dead? I hope he is. He deserves to die.

Now, many people like Dr. Winston because they don't have him as their therapist. He serves as a therapist for the people with severe depression in this mental hospital. And I'm the only one. The only one. No one else. No other person.

But what they don't know is that Dr. Winston basically threatens me. He told me that I don't deserve to live since I was depressed. That made me much more depressed.

Once, he slapped me across the face. He even encouraged me to cut myself. He gave me my own pair of scissors and told me to cut. Then, when a nurse found out, he or she asked Dr. Winston about it and of course, he lied. He said that he took it from his office and then he kept me in my cell for a few days to starve. I got used to starving though. Which describes why I'm skinny. It's because I guess I'm anorexic now?

He gave me paper and pencils to pass time, though. He told me that stabbing myself with the pencil might kill myself, or taking paper and sliding it across my forearm vertically might make myself die. But I didn't do any of those suggestion. Instead, I wrote music. I made one song recently. Not sure what it would be called, though. I only got half of the first verse and-

"Here it is. Before, I was his therapist, as what I told you, and he hated me. And maybe he might like you? I don't know. But go in, don't be shy. I'll be waiting out here. He's not hurtful. He doesn't have any weapons on him, hopefully. We always check if he does, though. There's nothing to be afraid of," I heard a familiar loud voice through the door. It was Dr. Winston's voice.

I ran to the farthest corner from the door and tried to hide myself. I turned to face the wall. I started to cry because he might hurt me. The new therapist. What if he or she does much worse? He or she have read my files before and I'm scared as fuck. The door opened carefully and I didn't look up to meet eyes with the new therapist.

"Um," I hear a soft whisper say. It was masculine. I look up to him. The tears in my eyes blurred my vision as I looked up. I wipe my eyes. Dr. Winston was not in sight. The new therapist backs away from me as I stand up.

Probably frightened from the scars on your arm.

Or maybe how ugly you look.

Or maybe-

"W-Where's Dr. W-Winston?" I stutter, trying to break the silence in the cell. The voices went away slightly, though.

"Outside. I guess I' your new therapist or something. I-I'm Tyler and I'm guessing you're Troye?" I nod. "Well, I have your medicine in here." I walk up to him slowly and take the cup with the pills. I backed away from him, though, after I took the pills. I dry swallow the two pills at once and hand the cup back to Tyler. He crumbles it up. "And now, I guess your therapy session is now?" I nod again. The door then opens, revealing Dr. Winston. I ran backwards to the corner, trying to hide myself. I was scared.

"Okay, come on, Troye. Your therapy session is now," Dr. Winston says, glaring at me. I gulp and nod. I get behind Tyler, hugging his arm. I was shaking. Dr. Winston leads us out of the room and into a new office. Which was probably Tyler's office? He shuts the door behind us, leaving the two of us alone. I look around the colourful room. I sit down on the darkest bean bag and Tyler sits at his desk. There was a silence for the first 5 minutes of the therapy session.

"So, um, Troye?" He speaks up. I jump up and make eye contact with Tyler. "Tell me what's on your mind." I don't answer at first. "Come on, tell me: What's on your mind."