Outcasts~ m.c

//Chapter Four//

Michael’s POV

 

“Hello sweetie how was your day?” My mom says peppering me with questions the second I walk in the door. It’s as if I’m six years old and she wants to know how kindergarten went today.

“Fine.”

“Did you make any friends?” Once again, kindergarten.

“nope.” I reply dryly and head off to my room to do my own thing.

“Don’t forget Michael you have therapy tonight!” She screams at me as I reach the top of the stairs and get into my room shutting my door behind me. I take my bag off and throw it on my chair.

“ughh” I moan to myself plopping on my bed and just staring at my poster covered walls.

Music and bands have always been a huge part of my life, my guitar sits in the corner of my room, but I wouldn’t dare touch it. Especially not anymore. Not after what happened. My favourite bands like All time Low, Blink 182 and Green Day all line my walls. They represent me, but they also represent my past. A past that I am trying too damn hard to forget about, but something inside me can’t make myself take them down.

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I must have fallen asleep because I hear my mom yelling something at me from a far distance.

“MICHAEL! MICHAEL!” I hear. I rub my eyes and look over at the clock. 6:15 pm. Shit.

“YEAH!” I scream back to her.

“You’re gonna be late for session” she calls back at me.

“Yeah I know, I’m just changing I’ll be down in a second.” I grunt and get my lazy ass out of bed, going to the mirror to quickly fix my bed hair and go find a cleaner shirt to put on.

When I am all done, I make my way down the stairs, say goodbye to my parents and head out the door to the one thing I hate the most in this world.

I finally get there. Late, I might add. The traffic was just so terrible that it took me way longer to reach the doctors office than it usually does.

“Michael Clifford” I say to the lady at the front desk. This will only be my fifth session with this new doctor so the people around aren’t quite familiar with me yet.

“Have a seat Mr. Clifford I will tell Dr. Parker that you’re here.” She says making a phone call to his office.

Before I even have a chance to sit down she is calling me back up to the front and telling me that he is ready for me.

I walk into his office and sit down. It is exactly what you would think a psychiatrists office to look like. There is one chair in which he sits, and a long lounge chair where the patient, me, sits. His walls are lined with framed photos of his diploma’s and certificates and in the far right corner sits a large wooden desk with ruffled papers filling every single corner.

“Hello Michael, are you ready to get started?” Parker asks me as he comes over and sits in his seat, bringing his notepad in hopes that I will actually talk about something today.

“Not really.” I reply to him, resting my head on the back of the couch.

“Well did you take my advice and try meeting a new friend yesterday at your first day?”

“Kinda, I guess I made a friend.” I reply dryly.

“That’s good does this friend have a name?”

“Um her name is Sammie. She seems pretty cool”

“Oh so it a girl” he says wiggling his eyebrows, which makes me want to punch him out.

“Yes, she is a girl.” I say back.

“I’m happy for you Michael,” he writes something on his notepad. “How about your guitar have you tried playing it at all?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to”

“Michael, I know you don’t want to but you need to talk to me. I need to know what happened, that way I can fix it for you, and help.”

“I’m just never picking up the guitar again okay?”

“You’re going to have to you love music so much.” He says to me. “I want you to close your eyes, don’t say anything but thinking about it may help. So close your eyes and think about him. Whatever you want to think about.”

“I really love that song” this strange boy says to me as I am humming a Green Day song to myself at lunch.

“Thanks, I love that song too.” I reply as the boy sits next to me and begins to take his food out of his bag.

“My name’s Davis, what’s yours?” he says stuffing what seems to be a peanut butter and jam sandwich into his mouth.

“Michael nice to meet you.”

“So do you play any instruments Michael?” Davis asks.

“Yeah, I play the guitar and I sing a little.”

“Sweet, I sing too. I’m not too sure if I’m any good, I’m pretty good at the guitar though” He says smiling at me.

“Cool, I haven’t met anyone that likes to play or listen to the same music as me.” I say back to him, somewhat impressed that we are hitting it off.

“I know this is so weird! We should hang out some time, maybe practice together I think it would be super cool if we could like start a thing ya know?” Davis says to me and I start smiling.

“Like a band or something?” I ask

“Yeah something along those lines.”

“Sounds sweet.”

 

We eat the rest of our lunch in silence breaking every once in a while to talk music and about what we could possible practice together.

 

Then the lunch bell rang and we both got up going our separate ways.

 

“Michael, what were you thinking about?” Dr. Parker’s voice interrupted my memories.

“Just how I first met Davis” I said to him, sadness starting to come over me.

“Good, that’s good, can you tell me how maybe that happened?”

“It was just at lunch, he commented on my music taste and that was it.”

“Okay Michael,” Parker says, smiling a big toothy smile. “I think we have made some great progress today. For the rest of the week I want you to try and get to know your friend, what was her name again?”

“Sammie” I reply

“Ah, Sammie. Get to know Sammie, see if maybe she wants to hang out with you or something. Next week we are going to try again okay? Also keep taking your meds they seem to be helping.”

I get up off of the chair and head to the door. In the past four sessions, I haven’t said a single thing about Davis to Dr. Parker. Today, since I had I am beginning to feel like maybe I can tell him everything. But him, and him only.