Too lost for therapy - The Wombats

Five

5

Two weeks later

My alarm went off as usual. I dragged myself out of bed and into the bathroom. I had been coping. Just about. Tord would go to his girlfriend's for three nights a week. Last night was one of those so the flat was silent. I turned on the shower and dropped my boxers to the floor. The thoughts of that morning still flooded my mind as I washed my hair. I was unable to tell if the smell of vomit was actually there or if I was just imaging it.

I got dried and dressed. It would take me fifteen minutes to walk to uni and I met Tord halfway. I put some bread in the toaster and went to look out of the window. The view over Liverpool from our sixth story flat wasn't the best but we made the most of it. The autumn sun was rising slowly above the buildings and people scurried about on the street below me to get to work. I buttered my toast and left with it in my hand and my bag slung over my shoulder.

At four in the afternoon, I received a phone call.

"'Scuse me guys," I said to my friends that I was sitting with and got up, walking outside the café.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Daniel. It's Dr Moss here, Matthew's doctor"

"Oh hi. How's he doing? Can we come and see him yet?" I stumbled over my words. I had heard nothing since we saw him two weeks ago.

"Visiting hours start at five. His parents are coming in to see him from five until half five but you and your friend are welcome to come after that" I grinned, excitement filling my chest.

"Okay, thank you so much"
"My pleasure"

I went back inside, with a massive grin on my face.

"You look happy," Clive said to me, smiling.
"Was that one of your chicks?" Mark laughed.
"No, I get to see Murph tonight" They all smiled.
"Oh my God, that's great. Did they say how he was doing?" Mark asked me.
"No, but I get half an hour with him later on"

"You'll have to take him some baccy" Clive laughed. "He's probably gasping" I smiled. This was the happiest any of us had looked since he was sectioned. I missed him so much.