you're my cure ➸ l.h

twelve ≫ leaving.

Luke's POV.

As I sat on my bed in my room I came to the realization of how nervous I actually was. My knee wouldn't stop bobbing up and down and my palms were clammy and sweaty. I just really want to get out of here.

"It'll be okay, Luke." My mom said.

She came to my evaluation simply because I needed a parent there. She hasn't seen me in a while, and it's not because she doesn't care about me, but because she thinks she's the reason for what had happened to me. I've tried convincing her that it just wasn't her, but she wouldn't believe me.

A man who looked very much like a doctor walked into the room with a pen and some papers on a clipboard. He was wearing a long white jacket; similar to what most doctors wear. He had an embarrassingly noticeable receding hairline and glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

"Hello, Mr. Hemmings. I'm Dr. Reynolds, and I'll be evaluating you today." The man said.

I nodded and looked down at my sweaty hands. People who are nervous usually think of things that make them happy, and that's what I tried doing. I started thinking of music, my guitar, my band, my bandmates. Then Jasmin came to mind, the way she acted when I was sad, when I was happy, when I wanted to love her and no one else.

"Mr. Hemmings?" The doctor interrupted my thought.

"Huh? What?" I snapped out of my daze.

"I said," the doctor glared at me, "why do you think you should be released from Canyon Ridge?"

I bit the inside of my cheek and formulated my answer in my head. I could feel my mom's eyes on me.

"I've been seeing my friends lately, and I've been doing what I love again. There's this girl," I could practically feel my mom's eyebrows raise, "and she's my everything right now. The music and her are really making me happy. And I know what you're gonna say, that I shouldn't mistake love for happiness. But even when Jasmin, that's her name, isn't here, and even when I'm not near a guitar or any music whatsoever, I can still find some happiness in myself. " I finished.

Mr. Reynolds nodded while raising his eyebrows.

"Well, you sound pretty confident in yourself." He said, pulling out a two-page packet out of his clipboard.

"I'm going to need you to take this exam, and we'll see where we go from there."

He handed me the paper and I smiled at him. I got up and walked over to my one desk in the corner of the room and sat down.

"Unfortunately, no one can be in the room. So, Mrs. Hemmings," he herded my mom out of my room, "good luck, Luke."

I took a deep breath and started on the test that could get me out of this hell hole.

》》》》》

It was the same scene again, my mother and I waiting for the doctor to come back into the room.

"You never told me about your girlfriend." She accused.

"You never gave me the chance." I responded.

"What do you mean?"

I turned to face her.

"I mean, you never came to visit me. How many times do I have to tell you that it's not your fault? I would've loved for you to visit me, but you never even bothered. It's like you used this place as an extended daycare." I retaliated.

Her mouth was hanging open slightly; she was surprised.

"I- I didn't know, Luke. I'm sorry." She apologized.