Lotus

1| Handling him

Not edited
Harley^^^^^^^

Harley's POV:

"Did you feel anything when you did it?" my new therapist asked with her pointer and thumb pinched together under her chin, she looked feed up that I wasn't giving her the information she needed.

It's honestly not my fault I don't need a therapist for anything cause there's nothing wrong with me.

yeah okay keep telling yourself that, I mean come on, your hearing voices.

I ignored the asshole in my head and gave her a blank look not answering the question, if I'm being honest.

I didn't feel anything while the accident happened but after a while it started to catch up to me that I killed someone.

Yeah I killed someone, but it was out of self defensive.

If I had the option to go back in time to change it all I wouldn't, the only reason why I wouldn't is because the abuse would continue and I wasn't up for that.

I was all over social media at the moment and when I walked outside on the streets I'd get nasty glares from people I didn't know.

But I don't hate people for it because they didn't know that it was out of self defensive.

I lost all social media because my mom didn't want me to explain the situation.

All she cares about is the money rolling in from all the people talking about what happened. And to make the situation way worse I'm black, so people started to immediately say I did it on purpose and I probably killed other people too.

which was not true at all.

I tuned back into what the therapist was saying but I actually wasn't paying her any attention at all.

I was looking at the city that was below us, I didn't know how people could come up with these disgusting words to degrade me but once again none of that stuff was true.

"....-well look's like you're time is up...Harley, try to have a nice day" she spoke sympathetically making me grimace, I didn't need anyone's pity.

I got enough of that on a daily basis.

I walked out of her office without a goodbye and continued out of the tall intimidating building.

I walked on the familiar streets getting some glares and camera flashes pointed at me.

When was this torture going to end? I was getting feed up with people non stop talking about me behind my back.

I already lost my best friend was that not enough?

Next up is my sanity and that takes a while to get back with no help.

As I got closer to the place I'm supposed to call home I seen the familiar red car meaning my mom was here.

Just what I needed some more bullshit, I can never get a break.

I walked up the steps to the door and unlocked it with my key, as I stepped in the smoke and alcohol smell hit my nose but I was used to it.

I looked over at the living room and seen my mom laying on the couch knocked out with alcohol bottles surrounding her.

Rolling my eyes I ignored that and made my way up the stairs making sure not to wake her otherwise that'll start an argument I was to drained for.

As I got to my room I closed the door behind me and locked it still not feeling safe.

I immediately took off my shirt and shoes flopping on my bed.

I laid there not feeling any emotion at the moment, I didn't even have any thoughts.

Just staring at nothing trying to feel something but of course it never works.

I finally decided that I was going to take a nap and by nap I'm gonna sleep until its the suns out again.

It's literally 4:30 pm.

Once again I ignored him and turned on my stomach closing my eyes, it took me awhile but slowly I feel into a deep sleep I didn't want to leave.

But I knew it wouldn't be a peaceful sleep, but it is the only time I feel something but it's not a good something.

It's fear.

Alexander's POV:

As my last client walks out my office, I sighed and leaned back in my chair letting my head fall back on the chair.

The client I just had was a curious one, she was new and was very...touchy. She made me very uncomfortable but I didn't say anything.

I've been working here for three years and most of my patients or as I call them client's, they all make huge progress and eventually won't need me.

I never wanted to be a therapist but my parent are controlling and back then as I was a teenager, I thought they where just looking out for me but later on I started to realize it was because they wanted more money.

I don't know why though cause they have all the money they could ask for, but they where power hungry so I just never associated with them.

Once in a while they'd call and 'Check' on me but I never believed that, they just wanted to make sure I didn't quit the job that paid me hundred's a week.

Snapping back to reality three really soft knocks where heard throughout the room.

I answer with a 'come in' knowing it was only my assistant; Dasani, she was a beautiful African American women with dark brown curls in a high bun, she had hazel eyes.

Since I was the head therapist I was allowed to have a assistant so I wouldn't have to much stress on my back.

I usually get over 7 client's a day and that depends on how many hours the clients pay for.

She never flirted with me like my other assistant's because she knew I was gay which I'm not afraid to admit, but most people just thought I was straight judging by my style.

But they forget gay people don't really have a style.

She's more like a sister.

"Mr. Lusciono, you where just assigned a new client because Ms. brook's quit the case" she spoke in her usual soft tone.

Who could be so bad that she had to quit the case, but Ms. brook's is known to be over dramatic with her cases so it might not be that bad.

"Thank you Dasani, you can go on your break now but make sure your back in a hour and a half" I spoke taking the files out of her hands, she smiled wide and turned around leaving my office.

I sat the file on my desk and opened if, the first thing I seen was a picture of my client and his name with it.

He was gorgeous and I was in a daze as I stared at his photo.

I snapped out of the haze I was in and flipped the page again, there was all his information and progress they had made which wasn't a lot.

Name: Harley Dior Black
Age: 18
Progress: We didn't make any progress my patient wouldn't tell me how he felt.

He would always ignore the questions I asked him.

What I gathered is that he thinks there's nothing wrong with himself and that he doesn't care.

This is Ms. brook's signing of Harley's case.

He might be a tough one to crack but I think I can handle it.

I don't give up that easily he might not be that bad.

Uhh so this is my first chapter don't hate on me I know it's short.

How did you like it?

Harley?

Alexander?

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