Zayn’s POV
“So Zayn you’re mother informed me that you get into these ‘accidents’ a lot.” he stated aloud, putting air quotes around accidents. This ‘he’ being my new therapist, Mr. Langdon. I truly didn’t think my mum was going to go through with this, but the doctor convinced her into believing that ‘this would be a good, healthy revelation’ for me. Personally I think its bullshit. I don’t feel comfortable telling some complete stranger what I go through everyday, and even if I was to tell him, it wouldn’t change anything.
“Yes, I am a terrible klutz.” I lied, adding an innocent smile for emphasis. He faked a smile right back at me, clearly seeing beneath my fib.
“Well, we all have our moments, but from what I have been informed, you seem to have more moments than what are considered to be ordinary. For starters, how did you get that little nose injury?” he asked, pointing to my still swollen nose, his voice consumed by his curiosity. I broke the lingering gaze that was previously between us, focusing on the book shelf behind him.
“The hallways at my school are very crowded, and I tripped.”
He jotted something down on his notepad before he looked back up at me.
“You’re telling me you broke your nose from simply tripping in a school hallway?”
I hesitated before answering, knowing all too well that he didn’t believe a word that has come out of my mouth. He probably gets countless kids in here all of the time just like me; victims of bullying, victims of society is what I call it.
I tried to portray myself as confident. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.” My answer was blunt and to the point, but he wasn’t going to drop it. Not that he could drop it, this is his job after all and if I were in his shoes, I would be acting the same way.
“Okay, I suppose it’s feasible. But is there anything else you’d like to talk about? Any icebreakers so I can get a feel of what kind of person you are? Do you have a stable group of friends, what are your hobbies, what’s your favorite subject in school, how’s your home life?”
I finally returned my gaze to his face, reluctantly looking him in the eyes. I pondered over his questions, picking out the ones I thought were reasonable to answer and leaving out the ones I thought were a bit too personal.
“I like art; drawing mostly. People tell me I’m quite good at it, and it’s calming for me. I enjoy English and Art class in school; they’re my best subjects, although I do alright in my other classes as well. And my home life is wonderful; I’m a pretty lucky kid.”
I looked him dead in the eye, giving him an artificial smile, knowing quite well this isn’t what he was interested in. I knew he wanted to get to the root of my ‘problems.’ He wanted me to admit I was a victim; that I was helpless and defenseless. But I wasn’t about to let my guard down just yet. If I can’t fight my torturers, I was at least going to try with my therapist.
“Good, good. I’m glad to hear you have such a good life. But everyone has something in their life they wish they could change, or do better at. Whether they like to admit it or not, we all have something we don’t particularly enjoy in our everyday routine.”
“Maybe a majority of people do, but I can happily say that I am not one of them.” I answered him blankly. He sighed, finally realizing I wasn’t going to give in to his persistent interrogation.
“So, what I’m getting out of this is that you’re a positive thinker, and that you’re some perfect human who doesn’t have any faults or obstacles in your life?” he continued to shove this constant questioning down my throat. He’s truly relentless isn’t he?
“I’m not saying I’m perfect; positive? Yes. Why is it so hard to believe that I’m genuinely happy?” I quizzed, my tone giving off more of a brutal vibe than I had anticipated. I ripped away the eye contact we were sharing, and turned my vision to a different spot on his face. I focused on his eye brows; his very bushy, very uneven eye brows. Mr. Langdon was an average looking bloke. He was in his late twenties, but the defined wrinkles from what I assumed were from stress and lack of sleep, gave him an older appearance.
“I’m not accusing you of being unhappy Mr. Malik. I was simply stating that even the happiest person has some trials and tribulations along the way. I was just curious of what yours may be. If it makes any difference, I am willing to share my own with you.” he replied calmly, somehow keeping his annoyance under control. I could never be a therapist; I get annoyed too easily.
I stayed silent, half ignoring what he said, but at the same time curious of what problems he faced on a daily basis. He must have sensed my growing curiosity, when he continued to speak.
“I’m a coffee addict, I love coffee. I can’t go a day without having a brew. That is something I wish I could change, and know that I could change but simply do not have the passion to do so.” He shrugged before folding his hands in his laps; he shifted in his chair, and continued. “See? I was only talking about something as simple as that. So is there anything you’d like to share with me now Zayn?”
I huffed, now my annoyance getting the best of me. I thought about it, and for a split second I considered telling him everything, but that thought went away as quickly as it had come.
“No.”
**
“Hi sweetheart how was your first session with Mr. Langdon?” my mother quizzed, her voice tainted with enthusiasm. I smiled for her sake, knowing she wanted this to be a positive thing for me.
“It was um, it was great mum.”
“Oh I’m so happy to hear that, I just know that this will be good for you honey. I have a really good feeling about it!”
She slowly pulled up to the curb of the place I dreaded so. I smiled weakly at her before reluctantly getting out of the car. When she drove off out of sight, I trudged miserably into the building; thankful for the fact that I had my art class to start the day off.
The second I walked into the room, I felt a sense of calmness enter me, this was my sweet escape.
I took my usual seat in the middle of the room, as the teacher took attendance. Once we were all accounted for, we began our new project; to draw a recent feeling you’ve had. I took out a plain white canvas of paper, spreading out all of my art utensils.
I began to draw my feelings, really putting my all into it. I was interrupted when I heard the stool next to mine move. I looked to my left, only to realize it was Violet Spade; one of the fittest girls in school.
I smiled at her, just offering a friendly gesture that you’d think would be returned. But not when it’s coming from me. She simply scrunched up her face in pure disgust, eyeing the bandage that covered the bridge of my nose. She rolled her eyes before turning her full attention to her nails. I turned back to my paper, my cheeks now visible evidence of my embarrassment. Wonderful, now not only am I victim of Harry’s aggression, but also a weak disgust to everyone else.
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A/N: Hello Lovebugs! Sorry I made you wait so long for this chapter! I stayed home sick from school for three days, and then I had a bunch of makeup work to do from missing school so I was a bit too busy. But I got my driver’s permit and I also went out driving twice with my dad and I did really well! But when I came on here after school today, I saw that SO many of you voted and commented on the first chapter…like all in ONE DAY. That seriously made my day y’all; I didn’t think anyone would even like this story! But I am terribly sorry for this short and very boring chapter…I just don’t want to rush anything! I promise it will get better! Please let me know your thoughts and opinions! And I would really REALLY love it if you would all check out my new Niall fanfic called “Redneck Romeo”! Pweeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaasssssssssseeeeeee comment/vote/fan! Love you guys.xx
