Prescribed

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"I'll take you to a therapist," said his friend.

"I don't need a damn therapist!" he screamed. 

"Dude you haven't been out in a month. It's eating you, don't you see?" 

"Get out," he said. 

"I'm taking you to a therapist tomorrow. Be ready at 4," his friend said before walking out of the door. 

"Whatever," he whispered to himself. 

~~~~~

"What the hell man?" screamed a groggy voice. 

"Wake up!" his friend shook him, and pulled his blanket off. 

"Are you insane? What time is it?" he asked, and grabbed his phone to check the time. "It's 4 in the bloody morning. Are you crazy? Get the hell out of my house, and let me sleep," he shouted. 

"Shh, do you want to wake your parents up? I know it's bloody 4 in the morning. I got a C in math, but I can very well read time." 

"Oh that's great. So now kindly, get out." 

"When I said I'm taking you to the therapist at 4, I meant 4 in the morning, not evening. Do I look crazy to you?" his friend questioningly said. 

"....What?!" he said, still in bed. 

"What what? You know what, never mind," his friend said and turned around. 

"Okay," he said, pulled his blanket, and went to sleep. 

"What the hell?" he screamed as he realized he was being carried away by his friend. 

"Dude, put me down. NOW," he said trying to get off the strong grip of his friend. 

~~~~~

"Are you sure that YOU don't need a therapist?" he asked his friend, bewildered. 

His friend kept on driving. 

"Which therapist in this goddamn world works at 4 in the morning?" he asked. 

"The best goddamn one in the world," his friend whispered to himself. 

~~~~~

"Look man, I don't think you're fine. Are you drunk, hm?" putting a hand on his shoulder, he asked sympathetically. 

His friend looked at him. 

"What? First you break into my house at 4, then you kidnap me, tell me you're taking me to a "therapist" and then you bring me to the beach?" he asked hysterically. 

"Dude calm down. I told you I'll take you to a therapist. I never mentioned who or what. I've known you for a long time, of course I'll know that you won't step into a therapists' office. So I bought you to a therapist of YOUR type," his friend said, and got out of the car. 

"I've been to the beach before," he rolled his eyes. 

"You've hit low man. I can't see you like this. It's killing me see you kill yourself. It's eating you up. You say you're fine, but you aren't. There's no one here. It's still dark, but if you don't hurry up the sun's gonna come out, and my purpose of bringing you here will be useless. So without wasting anymore time, GO!" he said pushing his friend. 

He quickly got into the car, locked it, and put in his earphones. 

"Oh my god," he sighed. 

~~~~~

He walked towards the water. He felt the cold sand under his feet. And then, the water hit. Cold, rhythmic.

 And without any effort, he cried. First a tear trickled down, then he shuddered, and soon, he was on the ground, kneeling. He let the waves crash into him. 

With each crashing wave, he cried more intensely. 

With each crashing wave, he let a part of the problem out. 

He screamed, he cried, he screamed, he cried. 

He cried until his tears, along with his problem, assimilated into the boundless sea. 

~~~~~

He got into the car, eyes glistening from the fresh tears. His friend smiled smugly. 

"Okay?" his friend asked. 

He nodded. 

"I feel better," he said. 

"I know," his friend said. 

"Thank You," he said. 

"Don't have to thank me," his friend said. 

They sat in silence, as they saw the peeping sun. 

"But dude, seriously?" his friend asked incredulous. 

"What?" he asked. 

"Kidnap? Seriously?" 

~~~~~

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