Lucid Dreaming {c.h}

Chapter 17 - Force our Smiles, Baby, Half Dead

*COULD BE SLIGHTLY TRIGGERING. IS KIND OF MORE SAD THAN TRIGGERING, BUT I FELT I SHOULD WARN YOU ANYWAY*

Calum pressed his ear against the Doctor's office door as soon as it closed behind his mother.

After the episode with Luke, Calum told his Mother, who told the family doctor, who referred Calum to get a few tests done.

The specialist has asked Calum a few questions, looked at his medical history and made a few notes.

But the scan was the worst.

He had to lie down on a weird table thingy and sit still for about an hour as some noisy machine that Calum couldn't remember the name of scanned through the inner workings of his brain.

It was terrifying.

Then he was forced to wait in a dank, white room, his mother crushing the bones in his hand with her own.

They had called her in just moments ago to 'have a quick chat' that Calum wasn't allowed to listen to.

Screw that.

The wood muffled most of the words the specialist and his mother was saying, most of it incoherent mumbling made unintelligible by the barrier between them. But some words made their way through the wood and into Calum's ears.

'Thankgoodness you came in when you did........ Appears to be a disturbance in the....... Can't be sure....... Need more tests........ Could mean many things....... Many disorders start with....... Not sure...'

Calum backed away from the door, feeling sick at the words he shouldn't have heard.

He sat down on wobbly legs in the creaky plastic chairs provided by the clinic.

He shoved his earphones into his ears and played the loudest song he could to fill in the silence of the empty clinic.

His mind was a hurricane, too reckless to control and too loud with the words that screamed through his ears.

Put the doctor on the phone, because I'm not making any sense.

Too much too much too much too much.

When his mother emerged from the room, she didn't say anything, Calum didn't expect her to.

He didn't take out his music as his mother booked another appointment with the specialist.

I'm hopelessly hopeful that youre just hopeful enough, but we never had it all.

This was certainly, not turning out to be his day.

AN. :))))

credit to PETE WENTZ for the song lyrics woo hoo