The Therapist's Son // Ashton Irwin [AU] ✔

3.

As promised, the next day I was awake and ready to leave the house by noon.

I didn't have much interest in learning my way to and from many places. Mainly because I didn't have a car, and wouldn't use it even if I did. Also beccause I didn't go many places on my own. Often, the only time I left the house was if Mom dragged me out into public or if I needed to get out for a "breather" like last night. Even then, I didn't tend to go far.

Still, to satisfy my mother, I decided I'd look interested just long enough to see the school - Which turned out pretty similar to my school back in the states, so my interest wasn't really needed.

"Um, where are we going?" I asked Mom when she went straight past the street I could have sworn we needed to turn on to get back home.

"I told you last night, school and therapist." She responded and I groaned. Since I actually had energy now, I could put up a fight.

"Mom, for the hundredth time, I do not need therapy!"

"Then don't think of it as therapy. Just think of it like reading your diary out loud," She laughed, and I rolled my eyes. "Come on, Natalie, it's only once or twice a week. Talking about your thoughts or problems could really help. I just-"

"Want what's best for me. Jesus, Mom, I get it." I snapped.

I was getting sick of hearing the same damn words out of her mouth over and over. If they had wanted what was best for me, they would have let me die in that car wreck with my big sister, or at least take me instead of her.

"I know you think I'm the bad guy here, Natalie, but-"

"Oh my God." I groaned, reaching for the volume switch to the radio. I shook my head in disappointment when a Justin Bieber song began to play through the speakers, and I quickly changed the station.

Looks like even the people working in radio stations here are dumbasses.

*****

"This looks nice, don't you think, Honey?" My mom asked as the car slowly stopped.

"Mom, it's a house." I said. It was a nice house. It looked like it was two stories or so. The yard looked in order and there was a swing on the tree, and chairs set up on the porch. It was nice, I just wanted to know where we were.

"Not just a house, Natalie. It's where you'll be having your therapist appointments. Starting Thursday." I mentally face palmed. I forgot that not all therapists worked in a doctor's office type environment. Unfortunately, the ones who did their work at home tended to cost a lot more, or at least that's what I've heard.

"Mom, I really don't like this idea," I muttered. "This doesn't seem right...I don't need therapy, god dammit!"

"Watch your tone," My mother scolded, otherwise ignoring my comment. "I'll be coming with you for the first few sessions to make sure everything is going as planned. You can talk about how you feel about the move, or school, or A...anything." She corrected herself, but my eyes began to burn with tears as I realized what she almost said.

If she thought I was going to tell a complete stranger about how I felt about my older sister's death, she had officially lost her mind. What was the point in talking about it anyways? She already knows how I feel about everything that's going on. This is a fucking waste of my time.

"I don't want to," I whimpered, a hot tear rolling down my cheek. I didn't know why I was crying. Frustration, maybe? "Please. Don't make me do this, Mom."

My mother refused to meet my gaze, but instead put the car in drive and continued on.

"I'm sorry, Natalie," Was all she said. "But someday you'll thank me for this."

*****

A/N: This was more of a filler, I'm sorry. Ugh, I have tons of make up work for school, and finals are next week, and what have I done to prepare?

Nothing.

I'll regret this later.

Not to draw attention or anything, but tomorrow is my birthday so I probably won't be updating.

Oh. Before I forget. I posted the start of a new story earlier today (The Fame), but I probably won't be starting that until later this summer, because I already have three other stories going on at the moment. Four if you count my preferences.

Anyways, I'll probably update 3:15 next. I'm hoping by the end of this week. But no promises.

Shit, the author's note is almost longer than the chapter. Does anyone even read my author's notes? I try to make them kinda entertaining yet informational, but clearly I am funny as dirt. Get it? Because dirt...Isn't...Funny. Um, right.

Time to wrap it up. Later, guys!! x