Teach me, Daddy. |hs|

ONE

I sat in the waiting room, my book resting in my hands. I continued to read and kept to myself; as did everyone else. Some read magazines from the coffee table in the centre of the room. Others starring at the old tv in the corner, it's noise filling the entire room. Doctor Manson stepped out of his office along with an eldery lady.

"See you next week Margret, tell Robbie I say Hi." Doctor Manson told the elderly lady whilst gently patting her on the back. She gave him a small smile and an equally small nod. She slowly passed us in the waiting area as Doctor Manson called "Next."

A Mother with a small child stood up and walked into the office in front of Doctor Manson. I watched the elderly lady leave, her body frail and her walk extremely slow paced. She used a walking stick with her right hand, every time the stick hit the ground it shook tremendously. Her entire body had a slight - shake. I could tell she was old, very old. As she neared the exit, I was about to stand up and open the door for her.

But the door swung back and opended. The elderly lady looked up, her eyes leaving the ground. A huge smile forming on her cracked lips. She slightly bowed her head to whoever was keeping the door open for her.

Once she had left a young man came in. He was smartly dressed. He wore a long black winter coat, black skinny jeans and black boots. His hair was messy, but it worked for him. He managed to pull it off.

Please don't sit next to me. Please don't sit next to me. Please don't sit next to me. I thought, as I buried my face into my book.

I felt a new presence in the seat to my right. I mentally sighed. Six other empty chairs in the room and he chooses the one next to me, great.

A heavenly scent of cologne flowed past my nose as he took his coat off next to me. I looked at him from the corner of my eyes. His shirt was a crisp white. He leaned his elbows on his knees and intertwined his fingers, leading me to mentally admire the rings on his fingers. He leaned his whole body forward. His face level with mine. He unexpectedly turned his head towards me, I quickly diverted my eyes back to my book, hoping he didn't see me starring. I felt extremely uncomfortable, aware that he was blatantly starring at me now. I let my eyes read the lines of my book but my mind was yelling; Change seats. Change seats. Change seats.

A lady stepped into the waiting room. She wore her blonde hair in a low bun and had beautiful fair skin. She wore grey work trousers and a salmon pink shirt. While I was focussing my attention on the lady that had just entered the room I could still feel his attention focussed on me. It wasn't until she called his name that his eyes left me and I felt like I could breathe again.

"Mr.Styles. We're ready for you now." She pleasantly smiled. He smirked at her and left his seat. The heavenly smell of cologne greeted me again as he walked past. He cooly walked across the room with both hands in the pockets of his jeans, the cuffs of his shirt were turned upwards. He looked so effortless.

I've never seen that lady working here before, and I've been a patient of Doctor Manson's for eight years. Maybe she was new.

The door of Doctor Manson's office creaked open, the Mother exited cradling her baby against her chest. She lifted her wrist and checked the time, then hurriedly left the waiting area.

"People to see, places to be. Huh?" Doctor Manson smiled looking towards the door as he stood infront of me. I softly smiled up to him and closed my book.

"Looks like you're next Jamie." He said, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his white coat. He began to walk towards his office. I quickly got up from my seat and chased Doctor Mason, I caught up to him and quietly walked behind him. As I was walking in, he walked by. The guy that had sat beside me. And right then, everything went into slow motion. We made eye contact and kept our eyes glued to each other as we walked past. We hadn't even spoken a single word, but there was something odd between us. It wasn't something awkward, it was like this - knowing, of something.

When he had completely walked past me, everything snapped back to normal. Back to reality.

I entered the office as Doctor Manson sat in his chair, waiting for me.

"So sorry." I apologised quietly, closing the door.

"That's quite alright Jamie." Doctor Manson told me softly, focussing on the screen of his computer.

"How's the night routine going?" He asked casually, still typing. The noise of the keys echoing against the plain white walls.

"Good." I lied, crossing my legs and shifting awkwardly in the leather chair.

Doctor Manson stopped typing. Turned in his chair to face me, and put on his glasses.

"I don't think you'd be here if it was going 'good', like you say." Doctor Manson spoke condesendingly, folding his arms.

"The pills seem to be working, I'm falling asleep easily. But the nightmares are still persistent. And when I wake up, I can't go back to sleep. But I still feel drowsy because of the pills I took from earlier that evening." I explained quietly, starring at the clipboard set on his desk.

"Can you step on the scales over there please." Doctor Manson demanded. He picked up his clipboard and clicked his pen. He stood infront of the scales and awaited me to step on them.

I stood up and made my way to the scales that were in the far corner of the room. I held my breathe and hestitantly placed my feet on the scales.

"You've lost weight." He stated. "Two pounds to be exact. You've lost two pounds in the space of a week." He continued, scribbling something on the paper.

I just looked at him, slightly confused as to why he was discussing my weight. He was waiting for me to speak, but I didn't know what to say. I stepped down, off the scales.

"What happens when it's another two pounds lost and another two pounds and another?" He questioned, raising his eyebrows.

"Well...then I'd be underweight." I answered, unsure of what exactly it was he wanted to hear.

"No. Then you'd be dead." He corrected me, walking back to his desk.

He began to type again. I left the scales and took my place in the leather chair.

"I'm sending you to a therapist Jamie. To help you with your nightmares. And you should continue to visit me weekly, so I can check on your progress." He sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

"Before you leave, I need you to fill out this sheet." He told me, placing a piece of paper in my hands. "Just fill in your daily diet. We'll let you know what you need to fix or replace to stop this weight loss." He said authoritively. I nodded and took the pen he gave me.

I began to fill in the blanks. Silence filled the air, I decided to make conversation, which isn't something I'd usually do.

"Who's the new blonde lady?" I asked quietly.

"Linda? Oh, she only comes in once a week for Harry, a new patient of ours." He told me whilst typing. Doctor Manson has lived next door to my Aunt Elizabeth for twenty years, he knows I'm a trustworthy girl.

"Harry? Was that the young man she called inside?" I asked, placing the pen on the desk.

"Yes, Mr.Styles. He requires a different type of care." Doctor Manson spoke quietly.

"What? He only likes female Doctors?" I curiously poked Doctor Manson for inormation.

"No dear, nothing like that." He chuckled. "Methadone. Linda gives him his Methadone once a week." He whispered as he snatched the piece of paper from my hands and attatched it to the clipboard. "Well, she goes to his house and gives it to him there, every other day. But I supply her with the Methadone, therefore she and Mr.Styles come here once a week."

I nodded my head, taking in the information that didn't make much sense to me. Mr.Styles was a drug addict? But he looked so...well put together. I was escorted out of the office by Doctor Manson, he told me to "Take care", the usual. He called "Next." and a sneezing six foot giant shuffled past me and into the office with Doctor Manson.
I stood still, unable to move.

I was too busy looking at Mr.Styles. He was sitting in the same seat as before in the waiting area, reading my book.

Author's Note
For those who don't know, Methadone is a substitute substance given to people who are trying to come off drugs. And what do you think of Jamie? She likes to pay attention to detail. But she seems to have caught Harry's eye. ~Cara x