I adjusted my beanie before hanging my head. I hated going here. I don't need therapy like my dad thinks. I'm fine.
"Calum Hood?" The receptionist calls. I only nod before walking into the office.
It was a typical therapist's office. it had "soothing" colors and a huge couch. The deep red colors were not soothing to me, they were depressing. And the huge couch that was supposed to be comfortable, wasn't. It was far too big, made me feel like I was drowning.
"Hello Calum. How are you today?" Dr. Melanie asked me. She was talking with her usual fake pep. Her smile seemed forced. I could tell I was about to get a new therapist.
"He- hello. I- I'm f-fine. Y-you?" I ask her. I roll my eyes at myself. I can't even say four words without my dumb stutter. I just wish I was still normal.
"I'm fine, but we're not here to talk about me. It's not only because you need to sort out your feelings, it's good practice for speaking," she recites her normal speech. She thinks she has to convince me to talk every time, but in reality she's convincing herself. I've never had a problem talking in our sessions. I mean I don't like to, but I know it's inevitable.
"It- it's fine. I- I've never h-had a problem," I say, seemingly taking hours to spit it out.
"So, take me through what happened," she says. I've thought about the incident many times. I guess I'm still stuck in the past, unable to accept the person I am now. So shy, reclusive, self-conscious. I wasn't always this way.
"Calum!" My father shouted from the side line. "Get your damn head in the game, son!" His face was red with anger, veins bulging from screaming.
He had stressed to me how important this game was for the both of us. There were many college recruiters here today, so I could get offers and he could get praised, being the coach and all. I cursed my father under my breath. I used to love soccer, but now it's just another excuse for him to yell at me.
I wiped the sweat from my brow, keeping my eyes on the familiar black and white ball. I dribbled it down until I got trapped, passing it off to Drew. I watched as he kicked it. It sailed straight into the nets. He grinned back at me and I smiled until I saw my father glaring at me from the bench. He always tells me that I should be the one to make goals, that I'm the star. I mean I know I'm really skilled, it's something I'm proud of, but I can't be everywhere at once. Not in soccer at least...
The whistle shrieked again, signaling it was time to start. I saw the ball shoot across the field. I locked eyes with my opponent, Jack. He was older, I'm not sure by how much. He was dribbling the ball down the field. I immediately broke out into a run, going after him.
I got control of the ball, turned around and ran. I kicked it, but the goalie kicked back. I saw it going straight for my head, but I didn't move fast enough. It hit my head with a thunk. The last thing I remember before the blackness was seeing my father sigh.
I woke up in the hospital. I lay there with my eyes closed, listening to the beeping and whirring of the machines.
"D-dad?" I said. I furrowed my brow. It's like my mouth won't move with my mind. I tried to sit up, but it only resulted in making my head hurt, hearing my gown crinkle loudly. I can feel something prodding into my arm.
I saw, what I assumed was the doctor, step into my room. He had curly hair and glasses. He looked friendly enough.
"Oh, I see you're awake Calum. You seem to be recovering fairly well," he says. Recovering? How bad was it?
"W-what h-happened?" I asked. I can't seem to stop stuttering. I must be tired still.
"I see you've developed a stutter from this. I'll have to do some scans," he says. Developed a stutter?! No. No, I don't think so. It's got to be temporary.
"S-stutter?!" I exclaimed.
"Yes, a stutter. When the ball impacted with your head, it damaged your frontal lobe. It controls your speech. I'm very sorry, but I'm guessing this is permanent. Of course, I won't know until I run the scans," he says slowly.
"I-I'm not b-brain dead! Y-you don't h-have t-to talk to m-me like I'm s-some sort of c-child!" I yell. It's like he was tiptoeing around me. I'm fine, it's not like this is permanent. I will be normal again.
"I know, Calum, I know," he says patting my back. There he goes again! I just shrug off his hand and glare at him.
He walks out, and several minutes later, a nurse walks in. She's blonde with bright green eyes. She's very fit. I mean very fit.
"W-well hello," I say smirking, coming off less smooth than intended. "Y-you're gorgeous," I say, laying it on thick.
"Oh honey, you can't even say a sentence. Kinda ruins the whole thing," she says, scrunching up her nose. Wow, now I'm really glad that this is only temporary. I've never been rejected before.
She glanced at me once more before leaving the room. Suddenly I was hit with silence. No one was here for me, no one cared. My mom was probably off with the latest flavor of the week. I have no idea where my dad would be, probably doesn't care. He most likely hates me more now that I screwed up and got hurt. I blew it for college.
I was staring, deep in thought, when I heard someone clear their throat. I looked up and, to my surprise, my father was standing there. Maybe he did care.
"Well, way to go. No college is gonna want you now idiot. You're not smart enough to get in that way, so I guess you're screwed," he tells me. Yeah I was wrong, he doesn't care.
"D-dad! T-that's not fair! I-it's not m-my fault," I say defensively.
"Oh it's not?! You're the one who didn't move out of the way! You just stood there like a retard!" He screamed. I thought that maybe if he saw me in a hospital bed, he would care. He would realize how wrong he's been. He would love me. I thought wrong.
"Calum! Calum snap out of it!" Dr. Melanie shouted.
"S-sorry. I g-guess I was t-thinking," I say. She looks very confused.
"Calum, you've been talking for an hour and a half..." she says hesitantly. Oh, I guess I said all of that aloud. Oops?
"And I'm sure your dad loves you... He just uh. Doesn't know how to properly show it," she says. I can tell she thinks otherwise. She's only saying what she thinks she should say.
"W-well whatever. I-I don't l-love him," I say. I get up without saying goodbye. As soon as I walk outside I fall to my knees and break down. Reliving my first day in the hospital is not fun for me. I wish I was dead.
A/N
1250 words
Edited 6/24/16
Italicized is a flashback if you couldn't tell
Idk I actually like this chapter so that's cool
