Journeys(L.H)

Chapter 25

Luke's POV(it's gonna get interesting soon I promise):

   I was let out of the hospital a week ago, three days after Michael and Calum had came to talk to me. Ashton hasn't said anything to me since then.
   We haven't spoken at all. The shows had been pushed back because of Harry's recovery. We've stayed in Dublin. At least Niall is having fun here. He went to go visit his family yesterday. Caspar went home the day I got out of the hospital. I never got to say I was sorry for punching him.

   The doctors say that Harry will get better in about two weeks. They say that he will make a full recovery and be better than ever. Just as good as new, they say. But they say nothing about Brinley, and when I do ask about her, they pat my shoulder and tell me not to worry about her. I do see the wary glances they give their coworkers when I ask about her though.

   One day, I went to go visit Harry. I walked past the room that said employees only. I didn't go in, I just lurked by the door. I heard voices inside, talking.
   "I need you to take very close care of Ms. Brinley Tomlinson. She is in critical condition and has very slim chances at living. She could lose everything!" I heard the doctor say.
    Then a nurse talked to him. "We are trying sir. There is a boy who comes to visit her everyday. I have to tell him that its family only. He says that the family she's got isn't stable enough to come see her all the way here." She sounded worried or concerned.

  I had walked away as fast as I could from that door that day to try and dry the tears in my eyes.

Today, the doctors told me I have to see a therapist. I don't think I need to go. I certainly don't what to either. I'm fine. I don't have a mental issue so I don't know why that was suggested. Like I have a choice though. Calum and Michael think it's best for me. They think that I need to vent to someone. I tried to tell them that I could vent to them, but they said that they don't have good advice or listening ears. Bastards.

I don't see how anything good could come out of this. I walked out to the car behind the bus with a driver and a bodyguard. I sighed and climbed into the backseat, as my bodyguard took the shotgun seat. "C'mon Paul, you could at least have given me the shotgun, since you're all forcing me to do this." I crossed my arms and grumbled. "I don't need it."

He raised his eyebrows at me and chuckled. "Sure, Luke. It's not like you have anger management issues." He said to me.
"I don't!" I yelled at him. His eyebrows stayed high on his forehead. "Hey, your eyebrows might try and fly away." I muttered to him.

He frowned and turned away.

The office looked like a preschool classroom. It was covered in butterfly stickers and painted childish colors. There were even little plastic chairs in the waiting room. I chose to stand.
Paul went up to the front desk and talked to the lady. I wasn't listening, I don't care. I folded my hands in my lap and made a grumpy face.
    I regret leaving my phone on the bus. Calum said it was going to be an distraction anyways. I hate it when he's right. But it could distract me from wanting to kill myself because I'm getting a headache from all these bright colors.

   A short brunette that looked about twenty five stepped out of an office guiding a teenage girl with dark hair and green eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow Malia." She gave a warm grin to the girl named Malia. Malia walked away rather quickly, letting her eyes roll at the lady.
   "Luke Hemmings?" She called out. I looked up at her. I stood up and warily walked into her office after her. The office was a little less revolting compared to the lobby. It was painted soft blue with a few plushy chairs and a couch, along with her desk that was neatly organized. "Take a seat." She offered me a brown plushy chair and I hesitantly sat down.
   "So, Luke," she began in a soothing tone. "I ears that you're having some issues with dealing with your anger. I read your file." She shuffled over some paper before pulling out a Manila folder with my name nearly printed at the top.
    "What file?" I asked her. She smiled as if it should be obvious.
   "The one from the hospital." I nodded uncomfortably and squirmed in my chair.

  "I'm not having any problems anymore. I have it all under control." I stated firmly.
   "I'm sure you do." She answered, not hesitating at all. "But I just want to make sure that there's nothing too serious going on here." Her comforting smile and playful look did not look very trusting to me. I didn't smoke or look anywhere except the painting above her head.
   It was of a bird. A beautiful bird with great big wings, tucked underneath the bird's body, plummeting down. The body looked quite normal, all drawn to perfection.

   The things that scared me was the look in its eyes. It made me so dates and so sad for the bird itself that couldn't even be real. The terror in its eyes made me wonder. Was he being chased? What wonder could make him so scared?
   It only made me less secure in the cold office.

A/N: more shortness my apologies. Comment your ideas for future plot lines! Okay byeee👨‍👨‍👧‍👦