When I woke up I had a huge, throbbing headache. I felt like a thousand bricks had been dumped on me in the middle of the night and I was drenched in sweat.
As I rolled over to get up, I hit my foot on the side of my dresser.
"Fuckity, Fuck, Fuck!" I yelped aloud to no one but the walls of the empty house.
I made my way into the bathroom and prepared myself for a shower. Once in there I couldn't tell if it was tears or water from the shower stinging my eyes. Everything was so different, not figuratively but literally.
-
"The team's going on a roadtrip next week for a couple of preseason games, are you sure you don't want to come with us Book?" Bledsoe asked as I shook my head.
"Are you sure?" Bledsoe asked again with pleading eyes.
"Yeah, I'm sure. I just need some time, damn." I responded in a frustrated tone while sheathing my face with my hands.
"Well it's been three months, Devin! We need you. Us - your non-blood-related family, your fans, lots of people. You need time? I get that, we all do, but at some point you have to stop living in the PAST and live in the PRESENT! Your parents wouldn't want you to give up - to quit."
"Get out!" I yelled at Eric, "GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE! NOW!"
As Eric began to leave he shot me a look of worry, and then just shook his head.
How could he say that? He didn't know my parents, not like me anyways. He didn't know that other people cared about me, if so where are they at? Obviously not here, but caught up in their own life.
-
I stared at the TV absentmindedly and then closed my eyes. I needed peace, and Eric was right I did need to start living my life again, but its so hard. All I feel like doing anymore is sleeping and taking long showers.
I didn't know what I needed maybe therapy, or pills - but whatever it may be I only know one person who would know what to do.
Pick up,
Pick up,
Pick up.
"Hi Tia, it's Devin!" I chirped into the phone.
"Tia's actually busy right now," rumbled a rough male voice, "can I take a message for you?"
"Uh, no sir. Just tell her that Devin called and for her to call me back whenever she gets the chance." I replied back to the man, only to hear the line go dead.
Great, I guess I'll just have to go to the doctor myself.
-
I didn't even bother to make myself look presentable at this point, I strictly just wanted to have some medication or something to fix me.
"Mr. Booker, the doctor is now ready to see you."
As I followed the nurse through the gloomy hallway, she got me settled in my room until the doctor came. She did the usual blood pressure routine and such, then exited.
It was a while until the doctor final came to my room, which was nothing new to me. Doctor's usually take forever to help out patients.
"Mr. Booker what seems to be the problem?" A brown haired, young man asked me. I mean the dude looked so young I felt the need to ask for his credentials or something.
"I just recently had a tragedy relay itself into my life, and now I feel empty. I've been avoiding people and bathing in my own self loathe, but thats not even the half of it." I twiddle my thumbs and stare at the white tiled floor.
"From what I've heard you seem to be developing a mild case of depression." He says while scribbling something in his notebook. "I'm going to prescribe you with some antidepressants to help relieve the ... pain." He looks back up at me and then smiles.
-
"Depression?" I blurt out to myself as I turn on my car. "Me? Depressed? This dudes loaded on some major BS."
I shake my head as I back out of the parking lot and head home.
A/N:
Skipping out on his pills, bad idea perhaps?