Therapy

Getting Help

-Toms POV-
"I said I don't fucking need help!" I snapped pushing Matt away who was trying to help me walk. I had gotten my stitches removed a few days ago but my back was causing me problems and I couldn't walk properly. The doctor made me go to physical therapy which is supposed to help but so far isn't. I have a brace on my foot and ankle and crutches. Matt sighed. I stopped as a sharp pain shot up my back and I fell. "Ah!" I wanted to cry. I was so frustrated with myself. Look at me I'm a joke. I'm pathetic. Why won't you get better you damn leg?! I snapped at them before they could even try to touch me. "Don't fucking dare." I warned them. I grabbed the crutches and slowly pulled myself back on to my feet. I groaned wiping the sweat off of my forehead.

A few more minutes of my slow hobbling down the hall we reached a door that said on a silver plaque, Tord 2-A. I snorted. What kind of a name is that? I sighed. Edd knocked on the door. A thick Norwegian accent responded. "Come in." The accent took me by surprise. This guy didn't sound a day over 19. (Tom is 18 in this story.) Edd opened the door and we walked in. "Ah Hello! Welcome, This Must be Thomas?" He asked greeting us. I growled snarling at him. "DONT FUCKING CALL ME THAT." Matt elbowed me in the ribs. I glared at Matt. "Don't mind him he's not always that bad." Edd said. Tord held his hand out to me. "I'm Dr Larson. Tord Larson."

He was cute but I wasn't bout to pay attention to that shit. I shook his hand. "Tom Thompsan." I muttered. "Well Tom please make yourself at home." He said inviting me into the room more. "I guess we will leave you guys to it." Edd said grabbing Matt's wrist pulling him out the door. I heard the click of the door locking as it shut. I stood there awkwardly starting to get a bit anxious. "Please sit." He said gesturing towards the big red couch in the center of the room. I hobbled over. Stopping as another pain shot up my back. I gripped my crutches until my knuckles turned white. I gritted my teeth. "Here let me help you." He said moving towards me. He reached out a hand. I slapped his hand away. "I Don't need your fucking help." I spat.

I managed to sit on the couch leaning my back against the soft pillows finally being able to relax. The room was pretty big. It had a big open sliding door window thing on the left side wall that outlooked the ocean view. Then the front wall had His desk and an Aquarium. The right side Wall had another door that read
Quarantine I wondered what that meant... there was a piano near the door but pushed back a bit and a plant in the corner of the room. The floor was carpeted with dark but soft carpet. The room was minimalistic but it was calm and relaxing at the same time.

There was Awkward tension in the room and I shuffled uncomfortably. Tord put on some quiet but calming music. "So Tom shall we get started?" He said sitting in his chair facing the couch with a clipboard in his hand.

"Whatever." I mumbled. He smiled slightly. "Is there any specific reason why you don't like to be called Thomas?" I flinched at that name. "N-no." I snapped. But my voice was shaky. He wrote something on his clipboard. "How do you feel physically?" He asked. "I fell fucking fine what does my physical state have anything to do with this?!" I snapped losing the little patience i had left. "The mind and Body heal together. If your mind isn't healing your body won't either, if your body isn't healing your mind won't." He explained.

He turned around writing something on another piece of paper his back now turned to me. That's when I got a chance to look at him. Like really look at him. I blushed. He wasn't bad looking at all... I guess I just lucked out. He had a slender build with slightly broad shoulders, he was easily a few inches taller then me. He had honey golden oak brown hair that stuck up like horns in the front. His hair looked super soft. His gaze was soft and tender but I bet that gaze could turn cold and hard in a heartbeat and mock you like you were the prey. He was wearing a white dress shirt like those ones that go with the suits. And a tie. And just normal dress pants and shoes. He turned back to me and I shook my thoughts away.

"Would you like anything to eat or drink?" As soon as he said that my stomach growled. And I know he heard. He giggled. "I'll take that as a yes." He said getting up. "No!" I quickly said. I didn't deserve food... there was no way I could eat. He looked back at me. "It's not healthy to skip out on meals." He said grabbing stuff off of a shelf. He tossed something to me. "It's not much but based on how thin you are im assuming you've been starving yourself, which is something I won't allow anymore, now depending on how long you've been doing it for it can be more severe, meaning you will probably be going through withdrawals. Because your body isn't used to eating hardly anything we will slowly get you to eat more and more until your body is used to eating healthy sized meals again."

I was amazed. I didn't want to eat but. I didn't want to cause anyone anymore trouble than I already have. I opened the granola bar and ate it. "Being that, that was little you should be fine, but as we move forward it will be natural for you to throw up after eating at first."

"How are you feeling mentally?" He asked. "Fucking horrible why do you think Im here?!" I spat. He sighed. "I know these seem like stupid questions but they help me get to know what condition you're in so I can help." "I DONT NEED ANYONES FUCKING HELP!" I grabbed my crutches and hobbled out the door slamming it. "I'm done here..."

———

Tord ran a hand through his hair sighing. "He's a stubborn one...... I'll get to him one day..."