rush//5SOS

6

"I'm trying to understand, that's all,"

"My childhood was average. Mum left when I was 13. My brother was out with his friends or they came over and dad was on film sets. When we were younger, we moved to wherever he was filming,"

"Average, mhm,"

"Am I ever gonna leave here?"

She was becoming tired of this place already, and she knew she'd be here for ages.

"Yes, I'll make sure of it,"

"Ok,"

"You seem quiet today,"

"I'm not feeling too good,"

She didn't want to answer questions. Her throat was sore and everything hurt.

"I just have a few more questions. Did your brother's friends ever drink infront of you?"

"Yes,"

"And your dad?"

"He wasn't home much, but yes. They sometimes let me try some,"

"When did you start drinking say, every week or two?"

She bit her lip.

Truthfully? When she was 15.

Would she tell Ashton that? No way. He'd lock her up forever, she thought.

"This year,"

"Really?"

He knew she was lying, her family didn't care for her privacy at all.

"Yeah,"

"So not when you were 15, and your boyfriend of one year broke up with you?"

"How did you know?"

"Your dad speaks easily. Look, if this is gonna work then we need to have some trust and I'm not getting that vibe from you,"

"Sorry,"

"You're really not feeling well are you sweetheart? Do I need to call a doctor?"

This alarmed Ashton, knowing one of Michael's patients used to do this. Just sit there, refusing to say what was up until you asked for specifics. They wanted to admit it but not really. 

She shrugged, a tear running down her face. Although her throat was sore from being sick, she just felt really, really sad and alone.

The drugs and alcohol shielded her from that.

"I can't believe he left me here,"

"I get that, but you've felt the withdrawal and that was your body crying for help because your happiness totally relied on all these toxic products. I want to help you be happy without them,"

"I don't think that's possible," she sobbed, hiding in the duvet.

"Get your head out and look at me," Ashton said firmly.

"You're only 17, and you might think that's old but it's really not. Your grades are lacking but I'm sure we can pick them up here. You'll be out in time to apply to Higher Education and I will write you a bloody good recommendation, as long as you follow our rules and let me help you. I get that you just want to go home, but this will help your future,"

"Who's gonna hire someone from rehab?"

"First or all, this isn't rehab, it's a psychiatrist hospital. Getting you off the toxins was only half the problem," he said .

"Second of all, I just said I'm gonna help you, even when you're gone. When you've left, you still get the pleasure of seeing me,"

"Have you taken away all my makeup?"

"We have,"

"You've cancelled all my appointments?"

"Like?"

"My nail one, my teeth whitening, my eyebrow one?"

"We have I'm afraid because no one in here cares,"

"What if there's a cute boy?"

"You aren't here to find love,"

"Well I could," she argued, rolling over her bed, "please leave,"

"Our session isn't over," he fought, determined to show he was in charge.

"Carry it on later,"