Chapter two

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"Hi, Louis. It's me again, your favorite physiotherapist." Harry said and giggled as he came strolling into his room, all smiley and perky.

Louis sighed. Why couldn't he just leave him alone? He didn't need false hope. He needed to face the hard reality.
"Did you have a good night's sleep?" Harry asked as he came up to the bed.

Louis just shrugged his shoulders. The pills that Dr. Payne described had helped some. He had gotten a couple of hours of sleep before the nightmares kicked in.

"Today I have to do some physical therapy on your legs and feet. It's mandatory. We have to wake up your nerves. Okay, Louis?" Harry said and looked at him.

Louis just shrugged his shoulders and turned his head to look out the window. The blanket disappeared around his legs again.
"I'm gonna put my hands on your leg now. Okay?"

He gave him a fast nod. There was no getting out of this so he better just endure it. Big, warm hands touched his left leg but he continued to stare out the window while Harry felt his legs and squeezed them.
"You haven't lost that much muscle mass. That's good, Louis. Did you play some kind of sport? You must have done a lot of running." Harry said cheerfully and Louis wanted to strangle him for reminding him that he never would play football again.

He glared at him furiously. Harry gave him a sympathetic smile.
"I didn't mean to make you upset. I'm sorry, but the positive thing is that a great basic physic will help you in your rehabilitation."

Louis huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. Harry started to stretch his legs and worked on him for 45 minutes before he spread the blankets over his legs again.
"You did good, Louis. Try to get some rest before it's time for lunch and then Dr. Payne and Mr. Horan will see you later during the day. I'll see you tomorrow." Harry said and smiled before he left the room.

He rested for an hour without closing his eyes, knowing the image that would appear as soon as he did. It was like a movie playing in his head. He was driving on the highway on his way to work. He noticed that the car approaching the other lane swayed back and forth. He lifted his foot from the gas padel but everything went too fast. All of a sudden the car made a sharp turn into his lane and crashed right into him. Everything seemed to go in slow motion. He was thrown around as his car flipped and landed on the roof. He smashed his head in the side window. The last thing he saw before he passed out was the other car in front of him. A woman was sitting in the driver's seat, staring at him. He realized that she wasn't moving and wondered if she was dead? A month later, when he woke up in a hospital he was told that she died on impact. She had been highly intoxicated.

It was getting hard to breathe. He had pressure over his chest, squeezing his lungs together and he was gasping for air. He managed to press the alarm button and a nurse came running inside. This wasn't his first time and she knew what to do. She gave him a shot of sedative and asked him to take a deep breath. As soon as the medicine kicked in he managed to calm down eventually. The anxiety wasn't that bad anymore. He hated this.

Dr. Payne came to see him.
"I heard that you had another anxiety attack. Are you okay?"

Louis shrugged his shoulders but then he nodded his head.
"Did you get any sleep last night?" Dr. Payne asked.

He nodded his head again.
"I'm glad. So, your sisters called again, asking if they could come for a visit." Dr. Payne informed him.

Louis' eyes grew wide and he shook his head fiercely. Dr. Payne sighed.
"You need the support of your family, Louis. Don't avoid them."

Louis grabbed the notepad and wrote something down before he showed Dr. Payne.
I DON'T WANT THEM TO SEE ME LIKE THIS. THEY HAVE BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH.

Dr. Payne flipped through his papers.
"The loss of your mother and then your sister. That must have been devastating for all of you. I'm so sorry. They need to see that they're not losing you too. Think about allowing them to come for a visit, okay?"

Louis sighed but bowed his head. He would consider it. Not just yet.
"Are you angry, Louis?"

Louis gave him a look that said what do you think? Dr. Payne took notes.
"That we can work with. Use that anger to push yourself but we need to control it too. Anger consumes you, makes you bitter. We'll work on your PTSD but it will be easier when you can talk again. Get some rest." Dr. Payne said before he left him.

He had managed to sleep for twenty minutes when a new person entered his room.
"Hi, mate!"

Mate? They weren't friends. Couldn't they just leave him alone?
"I'm Mr. Horan but please call me Niall. I'm the speech therapist."

Great, just fucking great. Was everyone cheerful around here like they were in some fucking happy psychosis?

"Now, we both know that you can talk. We just need to get your brain to get that too. That's the tricky part about aphasia. What's your favorite song?" Niall asked.

Louis just stared at him like he was stupid.
"Hey! Don't look at me like that. Music and lyrics are stored in another part of your brain. Listening to songs you know the lyrics to can jumpstart your brain. I know what I'm doing." Niall grinned.

He took out his phone from his pocket.
"We're both 90's kids. Oasis? Everyone knows the lyrics to Wonderwall." Niall said and pressed played, cranking up the volume to max.

Louis did know this song. Of course, he did. Niall started to sing loudly but Louis just sang in his head. He used to love to sing. Niall jumped up and started to dance around while he belted out the song.
"Come on, Louis! I know that you know this! Sing with me."

Louis couldn't help but smile when he watched this speech therapist do silly dance moves in front of him. What kind of rehabilitation center was this?

When the song ended Niall smiled.
"That's enough for today. I know you must be tired now. I'm gonna get you a computer. We'll make a playlist tomorrow and I want you to listen to music whenever you can, okay?"

That would at least make his days a little more fun. Louis nodded his head.

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