"You cleaned my room" Murph shouted from his bedroom.
"Of course I did" I said, going over and leaning on the doorframe. "It was in a state and was started to smell"
"Fuck off was it"
"Murph, it was a pig sty"
"Whatever. Can I unpack in peace?" He closed the door in my face.
"Let him be" Tord said from the sofa. I went and sat next to him.
"He-"
"Needs a chance to get used to things" We said at the same time.
"I know, you don't need to keep telling me. Dr Moss told me to keep any eye on him though. He has been in hospital for a pretty serious suicide attempt"
"He just needs some time along. He's probably not had a lot over the past four months"
I knocked on his door at about eight in the evening.
"You all good in there?" I asked. He opened the door, a cigarette dangling out of his mouth and a wild look in his eyes.
"You... okay?" Smoke trailed from his mouth and he nodded.
"Wanna come and watch a film? We were gonna order Chinese to celebrate you coming back"
"Okay, just give me a second" He said, shutting the door. I went back to the living room and sat next to Tord.
"Is he okay?"
"I think I missed some of the drugs when I was tidying his room"
"What do you mean?"
"He looked high as a kite. Surely he's not supposed to take that stuff with all the meds-" I was cut short by Murph leaving his room and coming to join us. I could smell the weed on him, me and Tord exchanged a look but decided not to say anything. I knew that Tord was going to let him get away with blue murder now.
YOU ARE READING
Too lost for therapy - The Wombats
Teen Fiction"He's gonna bring you down, Dan. I'm not gonna sugar-coat it, he's just gonna hold you back." TRIGGERS: This story contain strong mentions of suicide, self harm, PTSD and other mental illnesses throughout. Readers digression is advised.
