Some Say the World Will End in Fire |l.s.|

eleven

Turns out, it's a group therapy mum was recommended by the school counselor. I don't like this, at all. Everyone is sad and depressed, and I guess I am as well, but I don't need these other fucked up people to make me feel worse about myself. It's humiliating, really. Even they probably think I'm a freak because I haven't' spoken a single word while they've all cried their hearts out into their tissues.

"That's a very brave thing you did," the group leader says to the girl with the hair dyed dark green. "I'm sure you've inspired the people around you so much."

"Louis, would you like to share?" a girl, Maria, I think her names is, asks me. She's talkative, and I really can't stand it at the moment.

"No," I scoff, my arms across my chest as I stare blankly at the guy across from me's shoes.

"Are you s-"

"Maria," the leader warns. "Don't pressure him, it's only his first day." I continue to sit there before leaving twenty minutes later after the lady tells us to all find something or someone in our lives that drives us to get better. Harry's the only person I can think of, and suddenly, I feel guilty I didn't try. Oh well, the feeling of guilt isn't eating at me the way this anger is. This anger feels as though it's consuming me, so much so that I barely speak to my mum anymore, or ever since last weak when she scheduled me.

"So?" Harry asks as I sit in the car with an angry expression on my face.

"It's a group," I say back bitterly.

"What?"

"A group therapy. I'm in the room with a bunch of freaks," I shake my head.

"Louis," Harry says in shock. "You can't call them that, they're trying to better themselves."

"It's true," I say in frustration.

"What's gotten into you? You hardly talk ill of a person, you aren't acting yourself!"

"Piss off," I mutter and he just shakes his head, driving home. I think he hates me now.

Two weeks go by, and I haven't spoken another word in the therapy group, so there's that. It isn't helping, if anything, it only makes me feel worse. These people have gone through the worst things, they've been sexually assaulted and beaten and stalked, and I've just seen a dead person. I act like my entire life is wrong but it isn't, I shouldn't be feeling this way. What I went through is hardly something to yell about. I've seen dead people at funerals, on documentaries, in museums, in movies. I'm being a coward by letting this get to me when I don't deserve to.

Harry's walking me to school and I've got a shitty headache which is why my hood is up. I've been getting them a lot recently, I've noticed, but I suppose that's bound to happen when you getting into so many loud fights with your boyfriend and mother.

"You alright?" Harry asks.

"Fine," I nod.

"Another headache?"

"Yeah," I sigh in annoyance. "It'll go away, though."

"Go to the nurse if it gets any worse, alright? Or call me, maybe?"

"Okay," I nod. He kisses me and gives my a side hug before saying goodbye and walking off. I take a deep breath, my nerves through the roof as I make my way up the stairs of the school. I'm in the middle of my French class when the teacher comes up to me while I'm working.

"The counselor wants to see you, dear," she says in a hushed tone.

"Uh, alright," I nod as I gather my things and leave as subtly as possible. I make my way to the room and see her aggressively nice grin on her makeup-covered face.

"Hello Louis, make yourself comfortable," she smiles, motioning to the seat on the other side of the desk. "We've noticed a very large drop in your grades."

"Oh," I say, unsure of how else to respond as I play with my shaky hands uncomfortably.

"You're not in any kind of trouble, don't worry," she smiles. "Listen, we are aware of how hard of a year this has been for you, especially having such a vivid experience to the shooting." I clench my teeth and grab the sides of the chair harshly at the mention of it.

"I'll get the grades up," I try.

"We're recommending tutoring, preferably after school three days a week if that works for you?" she offers me.

"Thanks, but I can get them up on my own."

"Of course, we're leaving it up to you to decide how you believe is best for you. I hope you do understand that you're failing four classes and have a C in the others, and if you fail another we will have no other option but to contact your guardian. We're here to support you, Louis."

"Sure," I roll my eyes as I grab my bag and leave in annoyance. Everything is falling apart, it seems, and there's only one thing that can help.

By the time I leave the bathroom, my mood is completely better and I feel a buzzing that stops the voices and nerves. This is the feeling I live for, and I walk out to Harry with a smile on my face.