healing perfection l.h.

x

i've always been the kind of guy who doesn't define people

those kids with disorders at school

that homeless man on the street everyone throws rocks at

the one kid who amazingly survived cancer

i don't put labels on them because they look different

i don't stereotype them because they're not "normal"

i don't define people by what they've been through

yet i sit in the corner of my room all day and call myself names

like the boy who killed his mother and girlfriend.

~~~

Chapter 1 -

"Hello Luke!" Dr. Hollis said cheerfully as I walked into the small room where I meet with my therapist.

"Hi Dr. Hollis," I mumbled.

Dr. Hollis wore her usual frilly clothes and her red curly hair pulled up into pigtails. Ridiculous.

She pulled out her clipboard and went through the usual routine of asking me stupid questions and crap about how I'm doing. If I'm doing any better. She doesn't understand.

How can this woman be my therapist when the biggest tragedy she's gone through was not getting asked to homecoming freshman year?

I fiddled with my lip ring while she asked me more pointless questions.

"Are you nervous about going to school?" she asked.

I nearly dropped my bag. My breaths shortened, and my foot starting shaking. She must have heard wrong. Breathe, Luke. Breathe.

"Damnit," Dr. Hollis said, looking worried. "Luke, honey, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, let me get you a drink of water."

She got up quickly and got me a little Dixie cup full of water and patted me on the back.

"Your father must have not told you yet, we can talk about this another time," she said sympethetically.

"It's ok Dr. Hollis, I can talk about it."

What did I just say? I didn't want to talk about this. But for some reason, I felt like I needed to.

"I'm proud of you Luke," she said smiling at me. I'm not usually this bold.

"Well get on with it then."

"Oh yes, well you see your father thinks it's time to go back to school. Here in Pennsylvania."

I must've forgotten to mention. After what happened, my dad took me in and brought me to Pennsylvania with him. He and my mum were seperated, but the tragedy hit him harder than he thought.

"I can't go to school," I stated.

"Why not?" she asked me.

"You know why." Because my life is screwed up, and all I want to do is sing again, but everything I touch seems to end up burning.

"Luke, I understand-"

"No. You don't understand. The people I love most are gone and nothing can heal me. Every time I am hurt I grow back stronger but end up getting punched in the face even harder. I'm done, you can't pretend like you know what I'm going through because you don't."

I stormed out of her office, and then the building, tears streaming down my face.

Even my sacred guitar can't cover up these ripped up scars on my hands.