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"come on, minho, it won't be that bad!" minho's mother yelled, trying to open the said boys locked door. "it's only an hour!"

minho huffed from inside his bedroom, as he flopped on his bed. he's been doing just fine keeping his emotions inside a locked box in his brain, and nothing will change that. "go away!"

getting pissed off, his mom slammed on his door aggressively. it hurt her knuckles, but it was the only way to get through to her son. screaming. "i'm not giving you a choice. come out of your room and get into the car with me right now, or i'm taking your phone for a week!"

feeling defeated, minho slipped on some sneakers and opened the door with a pout. "fine, but no more than an hour."

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minho and his mother sat in the car silently, the only sound being the radio station, playing songs they both have heard millions of times. the two didn't speak as his mom drove, and minho sat slumped in the front seat with his arms crossed. he dreaded this moment, the moment his mom decided its time for a change.

"i'm doing this because i care about you, minho." she spoke, obviously being ignored by the other. she sighed, and kept her eyes on the road. "this'll help you."

"i don't need help!" minho snapped, voice sounding angry, "i don't need some guy giving me all these labels on what's wrong with me. i know i'm fucked up, alright?"

minho's heart sank as the words carelessly flowed out of his mouth, the hard reality hitting him like a truck. and there's nothing you can do to change that.

she sighed again, and pretty soon they were pulling up at the therapy office. minho dragged himself out of the car, and the two made their way inside. he anxiously grabbed his mother's hand.

upon entering, they were greeted by the waiting room. it was empty, and there were a few shut doors leading into private rooms.

minho's mother unlocked her hand with her son, and walked over to the main desk. minho plopped himself on a chair, and played on his phone until his mom came back from talking with the desk lady.

"alright, they're gonna call you in when your therapist is ready. i'll be back to pick you up in an hour-"

minho cut his mom off in a panic, her words sounding unappealing, "you mean you're not staying?!"

she nodded, rubbing her sons shoulders comfortingly, "you'll be fine. this is private, anything you talk about with him won't come back to me unless you say it's okay."

before minho could battle it out with his mom, she placed a kiss on his forehead and left the building, leaving minho with a horribly familiar feeling; being alone.

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minho groaned, and put his knees into his chest, curling into a little ball on the already tiny chair. his heart pounded, nervously waiting for his so called 'therapist' to come out. if his own mom thinks talking to a therapist will fix his messed up mind, she must be losing it herself.

minho hates the word 'therapist'. it makes him sound crazy, like he's so unbelievably messed up his mom needs to pay someone to knock some sense into him. and even if he knows he's broken beyond repair, just being here, in the office, makes him feel like a freak.

Therapy // MinsungWhere stories live. Discover now