therapy l.h.

0.7

Dear Luke,

It is day 15, hour 2 (2 hours past midnight), minute 6, second 34 and counting. I met a girl today. Her name is Melody. She's a bit rude, but she's the nicest person I know, at the moment.

Since I've arrived at this place, I have been asked so many questions. It gets so annoying that I walk out of the room.

I miss you a lot still. How is the band? Most importantly, how is my father? I hope he's taking his vitamins, he can never remember. Sometimes it feels like I'm the parent because I always have to remind him of important things.

How are you? I know you can only visit me once a month, but I'll cherish every moment. I don't know what else to say, sorry.

I love you,

xx Fel

Felicity folds her letter and puts it in an envelope. She slides it under her door and waits for Charity, the girl assigned to collect the mail, to pick it up.

She knows that it's far too late to stay up, and she is breaking a rule, but she hasn't been able to sleep since her arrival.

•

Back at home, the guilt of putting Fel away is eating at Luke. His thoughts revolve around if he did not put her in the institution. He went from seeing her once a week to only once a month.

Luke felt empty inside; dull and washed out. It felt as if someone had drained all the color from him and rung him out like a wet t-shirt, leaving him colorless and shriveled up.

"Luke, you have to get it together. We have a show in a week and we have to practice," Calum says softly.

"I know," Luke runs his fingers through his greasy blonde hair that hasn't been washed for days.

"Felicity would want you to keep going with your life, you know that. Don't let her down," a small, sympathetic smile is on Calum's face as he places his hand on Luke's shoulder.

"Okay, I won't let her down," Luke stands up a bit too quickly, and Calum catches him.

"Slow down, man," he chuckles. "Let's get something to eat."

"Okay," Luke says.

Luke's life continues on and he sends Fel letters as often as he can.

•

"He doesn't care about you," one of the institution girls, Melody, sneers at Felicity, frowning.

"Yes, he does," she retorts, holding his latest letter in her delicate hands.

Melody scoffs, "You'll see. He'll leave just like the others do."

She stays silent, not replying to the girl's rude and illogical theories.

Sadly, before she left, Felicity never told Luke when the voices had come back. She faked a smile and pretended that his medication was working for her. But here at the hospital, she's taking so many combinations of medicine just so they can see what works.

"Hand me that letter opener, Mel," Felicity commands.

"Here," she hands her the letter opener.

Carefully, Fel opens the letter from her unofficial boyfriend.

Dear Fel,

The band is great. We're going on tour soon. No matter how much he refuses to admit it, Michael misses you, just like the other guys.

I obviously miss you the most. If I could kiss you more, I would've. Just so I wouldn't have to go without the feeling of your lips on mine. I wrote a poem for you today.

I want to be the person you call at three in the morning when you can't sleep. The one you beg to come over and just lie down with. The one you want to listen to crappy music with; and dance around like idiots in your bedroom. The one you sneak oh with, and then get grounded with after getting caught. I want to be the one to eat ice cream with you when you get some bad news. The one you move in with. The one who shares your clothes. The one to road trip with you. I just want to be the one.

I hope you like the poem. It's a bit cheesy, I know. But it's my first one ;).

Your father isn't doing the greatest, but I mean, he did lose his only daughter :(. I do remind him to take his vitamins. I set a reminder on his phone for him.

I'm doing okay. I miss you a lot, but I'm surviving. At first, I was sort of immobile without you, but thankfully, Calum helped me.

I hope you're alright. I'll be sending some more letters in a week or so.

-Luke

But for some reason, a week turns into two weeks and that turns into a month which turns into three months with no letters or visits.

"I was right," Melody tells Felicity. "He doesn't care."

"You're right," a tear streams down Fel's face. "He doesn't care anymore."

All those sweet nothings, the letters, the kisses, hugs, late night talks, visits were a lie.

They were all a lie.

-

I'm sorry this was short and bleh but this is like the first part of the book (the promo, I guess). I'm getting to work on the second part now :)

That poem was also an original by me. You can read it on my tumblr: mourning-reign

-homicide-hemmo