embers • lashton

1

Luke sat silently at the strange woman's mahogany desk, his pointer finger tapping against it was the only sound filling the empty room. He let out a heavy sigh and wiped his clammy palms against his ripped jeans. Luke didn't want to be here.

I mean, he didn't completely understand why he was.

Why was he sitting in an office?

All he knew was that this was apart of his daily routine and he had to go along with it as much as he didn't want to.

His days had been the same every damn day since his last birthday. Wake up around seven, take three different anxiety medications three times a day. He'd go to school during the week and encounter the same fucking horrible people. Every single day was the same.

And it was hell.

Luke's blue eyes began to scan the room, examining each frame that contained a painting. Luke loved painting, he adored it at that. It was his escape from reality when he was away.

But when he was out, well, that's a different story.

He had a history of being placed into the rehabilitation center-or as he liked to call it 'Hospital for Souls'- for one reason. At the age of nineteen, Luke was officially diagnosed with a rare form of dementia, which caused him to have a lot of episodes.

Which terrified his parents because they didn't know how to help their son.

Over the course of last year, Luke slowly got worse. By April, his parents were concerned. Luke was forgetting things, having horrible episodes which included him getting into a physical fight with his mother. He couldn't remember anything afterwards. Somedays his every thought was negative. As hard as he tried, he just couldn't remember what happiness felt like. His mother and father decided that it was best that he started seeing someone.

Someone.

He didn't want to see anyone. He just wanted to keep to himself and not feel like he was bothering someone with his problems. The only reason why his parents knew was because he still lived with them.

Luke was abruptly shaken from his thoughts as the door behind him shut loudly, the clicking of heels followed with the door. The boy let out a soft huff as his therapist sat down, the brunette shot him a gentle smile before locking her fingers together.

"How are you feeling today, Lucas?" She asked politely, he shrugged his broad shoulders as he played with the frayed holes in his jeans.

"I dunno," He said in almost a whisper.

The woman pushed her falling glasses back up to the bridge of her nose before turning the back of her chair to the boy so she could face her computer screen. Luke nearly groaned, the only time she ever turned to her computer was when he was getting a higher dosage of his medication.

"Do we really have to?" He pleaded, his therapist looked over at him with a soft sigh and nodded sadly.

"Lucas, I can't help you if I don't know how you're feeling. And sadly, this practice requires that if we can't help you by talking to you," she sighed again before she continued, "then we have to up your medication."

He held back tears, he knew that if he put up a fight that he'd be right back in the Hospital for Souls.

So he sat silent and watched the woman type away.

Moments later, his therapist turned back to face him, handing him a slip for his pharmacy, Luke huffed as he took it. He didn't say anything once he stood up from the chair, he quickly adjusted his jeans and made his way out of the office. His mother's smile faded once she saw the look on her sons face, she opened her arms to the boy as he walked closer to her; she embraced him once he was close enough.

"Hi, lovebug, how'd it go?" She cooed in his ear, trying to comfort the boy, he nuzzled his face in the crook of his mothers neck, taking in the familiar scent of her favorite perfume.

"Up on meds," He muttered once they simultaneously pulled from the hug, she pursed her lips together and sucked on her teeth before responding.

"Luke, if you don't start talking to her all she will continue to do is exactly that." She said as she motioned her head to the slip, he opened the door for the woman before he followed behind her to the car.

His mother was right, he knew he did need to start talking to his therapist.

He just didn't know how to.

He was silenced by everyone his entire life, and it wasn't until he met Ashton and was diagnosed by a doctor did he get any attention.

Maybe it's better if I just stay quiet.

The medicine doesn't work, it just makes me want to get high.

Nothing's working anymore.

I can't remember anything positive.

What's wrong with me?

Luke felt like he was screaming in a crowded room but nobody could hear him or bothered to look.

Once he got home, he went straight to his room to call Ashton, he was the only person he could talk to about anything because Luke trusted Ashton with his life. Ashton only knew about the things he told him, he knew that there was more to Luke's life and he respected the fact that he wasn't ready to tell him.

And that made Luke feel safe.

He did want to tell Ashton everything, but like everyone else, he just didn't know how. All of the trust he had for Ashton flew out the window every time he went to talk to him about it. Plus it scared him. He didn't know what would be behind the door once he opened it, so he decided to keep it shut for as long as he could.

Because he didn't even want to think about it or anything at all.