therapy // oc story

Introduction

Trigger warnings; strong and homophobic language.

Colby Tristan Lancaster - 3 years ago.

He ran, and he wouldn't stop. He had to keep running, or else they'd catch him, or...or worse...

He was only an eighth-grader. Why him? He didn't do anything wrong. He didn't do anything wrong. He didn't do anything wrong.

His running seized to a halt. He had taken a wrong turn. Trapped. Trapped and nowhere to go. He had to run, he had to run, he had t-

"Finally, we caught the damn faggot!" Voice? A voice. Who, exactly? Faggot? That's really mature.

"Let's beat him to the ground, like all of the other fags. They shouldn't even be alive. Especially this pile of garbage." Now he was in for it. This wasn't going to go well. This wasn't going to end well. His bruises from previous attacks would grow worse.

~

Colby Tristan Lancaster - Present.

"Look, Colby..." His therapist had said. "Your parents and I are worried. You need to be more social."

Cole held up his hands and quickly signed, 'Cole, and I don't want to be social.'

His therapist sighed. "Well, you don't have a choice. We're sending you to a group of people that will help you. It's a support group. They'll help you."

Cole rolled his eyes, signing, 'I doubt it,' before crossing his arms. Obviously, he wasn't up for it.

"The first meeting that you will be attending will be tomorrow after school. It starts at five. Try to get along with others?" His therapist pleaded. Cole shrugged and got up to leave. The therapist sighed and led him down the long corridor to the waiting room, where his parents were. Cole pulled out his phone while his parents finished chatting with the therapist. He tuned out their conversation, and instead focused on the other sounds. The clerk talking to a mother and her son, sirens blaring from a police car, a lighter being flicked on from outside the door. Cole plugged his headphones in and tuned out all sounds except for the voices he wished to listen to.

~

Alexander Christian Castiel - 3 years ago.

He was only doing what he thought was best. But what he thought was best, was, you know, getting tattoos with a fake ID.

The tattoos weren't something he'd call regretful, but the fact that he had no idea what happened while he was getting them was slightly concerning.

He had planned on getting something with the yin and yang on his forearm but ended up with an entire sleeve on his left arm, several on his right leg, one on his back, four eyebrow piercings, one lip piercing, five ear piercings...and a completely empty wallet.

He didn't regret a thing, except for the fact that he was sixteen and high as fuck with a fake ID. He loved his tattoos at the time, paying using his entirety of saved cash. He had to work overtime to get more cash, and eventually got back what he had lost.

~

Alexander Christian Castiel - Present.

Alexander rolled his eyes as he plopped down into the chair behind him. He crossed his arms and stared at the wall, ignoring the older woman seated in front of him.

"Alex. Alex..? Alex!" The woman shouted, finally getting his attention by waving a hand in front of his face.

"Huh? What? Oh. Sorry. Forgot I was back in this dreadful place for a moment." Alexander responded.

"I was trying to tell you that you need to be more...interactive with the people around you. I've decided to send you to a support group. There's a bunch of kids your age there..." She flipped his clipboard to a different page before continuing, "...and I'm sure you'll love it. First one is tomorrow. Starts at five. Don't be late, and try to make some friends, alright?" The therapist in front of him asked. Alexander replied with his usual 'yeah yeah whatever' before exiting the room, walking down the hallway as quick as he could, walking past parents speaking to another therapist and almost bumping in the foot of a younger boy seated nearby.

He finally made his way outside and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and pulled out a lighter as well. Without even looking at the pack, he pulled one out at random and lit it, then placed it between his teeth. He sighed as he breathed in the fumes.

He forgot about the support group for the time being, and instead, focused on the cigarette in his mouth.

~

end of the introduction.

hope that gave you a bit of background information. also, a side note: Alexander actually smokes his cigarettes. trust me this will not be a copy of "The Fault in Our Stars" because that's dumb and cliché. but anyways, thanks for reading. next chapter should be out soon. super excited to write this. also since it's the intro, it's not that long. the first real chapter will be longer.

thanks again for reading.

~destiny