Trust » Harry Styles

four: despair

Despair
noun;
the complete loss of absence or hope

The colours on the walls were blending in together as I stared at them. I couldn't stop the lightning fast thoughts that were flowing through my mind, they just wouldn't stop and frankly, I didn't care. Why bother stopping something that wont ever stop?

Voices were heard all throughout the halls, making my head pound more than it was already. I just wanted to hurry up and get out of here.

"Porsche Willson?" 

I stood up quietly and followed the man down the hall to where his respected room was, the pressure in my chest was rising and I could feel the blood pounding in my ears. 

The moment the doctor sat down in his chair, he looked at me. He just sat and stared, whilst I stared back.

"So, Porsche, how are you feeling lately?"

"Fine."

"Just fine?"

"Yes. Just fine."

Why does he ask me this when I say the same thing every time? I'm fine.

"You know Porsche, you're not going to get better if you don't try."

"Maybe I don't want to, what do I have left for me anyway?"

I was telling the truth, and he was not accepting it, last time he told me I was lying, and I knew I was, but he seemed to think if I accept what happened and why I'm sad then I'll be happy again.

But I wont be happy, and I know I wont. I'll never be happy again, what's the point, anyway?

"Have you been taking your medication, then?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to take it."

The doctor sighed, as he does every time the session ends like this. I cannot help that I'm so fucked up and don't want to be fixed. 

"So I can go now?"

"You may go, Porsche. Same time next week."

I stood up quickly and walked out of his office, but just before I was out of earshot, he muttered the words "she's hopeless".

I could feel all the hope I had left drain out of my body, I know I'm hopeless, and he just confirmed my thoughts.