FicWad

I had been right; the walls of this fucking bland room were already driving me insane. I was lay on the comfy quilt willing myself to relax a little. I’d just attended group therapy and every time I came into contact with that bitch I needed time to cool down. She drove me crazy, everything about her made me cringe. From her glassy eyed stare to the incessant tapping of her stiletto heels, and all her annoying mannerisms in between; she irritated me. Not to mention all her approaches to getting people to open up, I mean sure they worked. On first time sex addicts. I already knew the answers to her questions, I’d been here before and I remembered all this. Yet she still insisted on putting me in with them, claiming it would ‘be a helpful experience to relive therapy’. Bullshit. I think it was just a way of making less work for herself. People in this profession are shy about treating people individually. It’s a surprise she even bothered with one-to-one. She wasn’t exactly getting anywhere with me either in regards to that. I just sat there and answered her stupid questions with equally stupid answers. What did she care if I had good day or not. It was mindless small talk to try and get me to open up, a tactic I was fully aware of and wise to.

Did she not realise I’d been through this before… Maybe just maybe if she’d dealt with me appropriately and not pawned me off in the main class to give herself more free time I would have been more responsive to her treatment. I hate these places, and I hate therapists. All of them just shoved me into the same category, when in reality I wasn’t just a sex addict, I had relapsed. If they tried to simply find out the route cause as to why I relapsed and then help me cover the steps of self-control again then I could be out of this shit hole in less than six months. But no. They have to do it the fucking easy way, just because they can’t be fucked bothering. I’d have thought because Miss Bitch was young she wouldn’t have been as cynical as elder therapists; however I was turning out to be quite mistaken. She seemed just as disenchanted with her work as the veteran therapists.

I opened my eyes to stare mindlessly at the wall above me. The ceiling plaster was cracked and decaying, stains of god knows what decorated it like large dark brown splodges of ink marring a new sheet of paper. I sighed rubbing my temples, next was lunch, and lunch meant Frank. Yesterday had not gone well. Not at all. I’d tried to approach him with a more intellectual side of me, to try and show him that there was more to me than just my addiction. I mean before it all went down-hill I was a very healthy member of society, a part of an art college in New York with my own apartment and job. Not to mention the fact that my free time consisted of Kayden and I either buzzing around the music scene or making waves as well as a name for ourselves on police databases for controversial street art. But it didn’t work, I’d done something wrong, said something wrong because he did even touch his food. He sped off, almost dumping everything in the bin in a feeble attempt to escape my presence. It really did upset me to see how scared of me he was.

He wouldn’t even look at me; his gaze kept shifting around me like he was desperately trying to pretend I wasn’t there. I felt nasty for putting him through this, but like Mikey said… if I can pull this off, it won’t just be me who’s back to normal… I glanced over at the clock to see that it was coming up for quarter to twelve, and still being at a loss for how to approach Frank this time, I decided to call Mikey. I needed his advice on this, knowing me I’d just scare him off again.

I always jumped head first into things without properly thinking through the consequences. This was why my brother and I made such a kick ass team. I had the confidence to kick start things, and he made it realistic. Together I think if we took down Obama, we could easily make this world a better place. But alas, if we did that, we’d probably end up public enemy number one…

Reaching out I took a hold of the phone and placed the cool plastic to my ear, squishing it against my shoulders I rubbed my face with my hands. I reminded myself of the reasons why I never wanted to come back here as the short shrill rings sounded on the other end of the line. It wasn’t long before he picked up.

“Let me guess; Gerard.” He spoke, his thick voice betraying the fact that I must have woken him up; lazy shit.

“Mikey…” I whined, knowing that he hated it when I put on my childish tone. Kids drove him up the wall the same way Miss Bitch rubbed me up the wrong way.

“What do you want Gee?” He questioned, a yawn perforating the end of his sentence. I took a deep breath.

“Yesterday I ended up babbling about my hatred for professionals and rehabilitation centres and how the government just ends up drugging people to get money these days anyway without trying to heal people properly without the aid of expensive drugs, to Frank. And he like just ran off.” I spoke, trying the condense yesterday’s events considering I didn’t have very long to tell him the details. Now that I’d said it aloud, it did sound a little too full on for a first meeting… Why can I never do anything right? I heard a distressed chuckle float through the speaker.

“Jesus Gerard. What a way to fucking overwhelm the poor bastard. You have no social grace do you?” He asked rhetorically, his tone extremely patronising. This was my brother though, I could take him patronising me. He was the only person on this planet allowed to and that’s because he hardly ever did it, and when he did; I knew I deserved it.

“Well Mikey, it was so fucking awkward. And I just ended up drifting to a subject I could blab about for hours because, well… I hate awkward silences…” I confessed. It was true. I mean I expected it to be awkward, but I didn’t expect to not find the right words. I mean I was pretty much okay when it came to making conversation when I put my mind to it. But my mind seemed to fail me yesterday. I mean what do you talk about? I did try with conversation, I did. Then it went all pear shaped and I ended up blathering about my distaste for my therapist which ended up leading into my distaste for the government. Jesus, Mikey was right, I am rather stupid.

“Well Gerard, there are going to be plenty of them, if you want to make friends with Frank… Are you going to try again today?” I agreed quickly, hoping he had some sort of advice or conversation angle for me to work on. “Well then, I suggest you take it easy with him. Ask him about his day, if he doesn’t reply, tell him how yours was. Ask him if his therapy session went well, if he doesn’t reply, tell him about yours; but we’ve learnt our lesson about rambling now haven’t we? Follow that pattern okay? If he stays silent answer your own questions. Once you run out of small talk, don’t be scared of the silence… Embrace it because I guess in a way it shows that you’re there to try and make friends, because you’re making things awkward for yourself as well as him. Just no political rants and nothing too heavy, otherwise he’ll just end up overwhelmed. And if you find yourself in way over head, you run; no wonder he bolted.” Mikey finished and I quickly thanked him before wishing him goodbye. The clock hands had made their way to five past twelve and I wanted to make sure I had chance to catch him in case he rapidly ate his meal to avoid me.

Speeding down the freshly cleaned corridors I made my way to the dinner hall. I felt slightly nervous because I really wanted to make the right impression. I didn’t want to have to end up resorting to a small but sweet thank you letter because really this guy worked a miracle, and that deserves more than just a thank you letter. However you can’t force kind words and praise on ears that simply refuse to hear them but I still stuck to my guns, if I perfected my one sided conversation skills and it still didn’t work after a month of trying then I’d have to give up. It would be unnecessary stress on Frank to keep putting him through something he just didn’t want to accept. But for now, there was the tiniest sliver of hope.

The sterilized halls reeked of bleach; I guess Frank had been working here prior to lunch. However the smell faded as the mint green doors appeared on my horizon. I could hear the chairs scraping from my position at the other end of the corridor and it made me flinch in pain. I think the unfortunate chain of events from last night’s broken sleep to my brother’s disappointed and patronising reaction had led to the formation of a killer headache. Just what I fucking needed. My head throbbed lightly as the annoying small screeches of my shoes against the laminate flooring added to my irritation.

Bursting through the double doors I paced forward to the relatively short dinner queue as my eyes scanned the mass of seething bodies for the small semi-familiar figure, but I couldn’t seem to recognise him. Most of the time he wore a hat, with a small portion of fringe poking out, a fringe he preferred to hide behind. However there was quite a shock waiting for me, I couldn’t see that today; the only way I recognised him? The scorpion plastered against the tan skin of his neck. His hair had just vanished. It had gone completely, along with his hate. Instead a number one buzz cut adorned his head. It didn’t look bad, though. I mean you wouldn’t have thought it would have suited him, but it did. It made him look cuter, like a puppy that had just had its fur shaved. But that wasn’t exactly the best compliment to hear… So I moved my gaze back to the bald head in front of me in the queue; I tried to think of a compliment that would make him feel better to break the ice if I felt conversation fail me yet again.

As the line eventually decreased in size I let it wash over the top of my head; I’d know the right thing to say when the time came… I hoped. Well… secretly I was hoping I wouldn’t need to know what to say, because the time would never come. I was hoping that this time I’d be able to uphold a functioning one sided conversation instead of doing the wrong thing again. I always ended up doing the wrong thing.

I froze, automatically recognising the dangers of that way of thinking, after all it was reason I ended up here the first time round. Ridding myself of anything I’d just thought I straightened up and shovelled food that could pass for cardboard onto my plate. The women dotted around the serving trays were all stony faced and wrinkly, every one of them sporting a grimace or scowl. Each of them wearing matching grey uniforms, each of the emanating oppression. Oh, how cheerful this place was to be. I rather holiday here than Disney World any day….

Scouting out Frank’s table I made a beeline for the chair opposite, that was where I always sat, I figured that if I sat next to him I’d be far too close to him. It would be too intimate for him and he’d definitely think I was coming onto him. Which I totally wasn’t. So I opted for the seat opposite. I guess that was something I did right…

I pulled out the blue plastic chair trying my hardest not to scrape it too hard against the polished linoleum. I slid into the chair and placed my tray down carefully, I always tried my hardest not to make any sudden movements. I tried my hardest to be gentle; which may I add was very hard. Although I wasn’t always the loud over excited person falling over their own feet, I’d pretty much adopted that persona in college. I found the real me when me and Kayden started dating, and let’s say he wasn’t the daintiest of people; especially when intoxicated. I muttered my usual greeting as I instantly observed how closed off his body language became. He hunched up over his steaming food, head pointed directly downwards. He did little to acknowledge my presence; I could see him mentally pretending I wasn’t there. It was slightly heart breaking. I wondered what he was like with normal people; those who weren’t addicts. Was he the same?

“Hey. I’m sorry about yesterday I didn’t mean to scare you.” I stated calmly. Keeping my voice at a normal level. I dug my fork into a chip, examining its golden crispiness. It may sound appetizing but it honestly wasn’t. They were dry and most likely tasteless, I had no sauce either. I didn’t really fancy eating much here anyway. I only had an appetite when it involved food I loved. If it was shit, I could easily go without; cigarettes and coffee were my diet. And probably would be for the next ten months. Deciding I had waited ample time for a response I asked my first question.

“How are you today? How was work?” I voiced into the tense silence surrounding us. My eyes lifted to take in his form, he was still huddled and he was avidly avoiding my gaze. I huffed slightly as I also noticed that once again he hadn’t touched his food. Was I that disgusting I put him off his food? Or was I just that scary he lost his appetite? Whichever option it was I certainly wasn’t a fan of either, I was desperately hoping that would change soon though. Yet again there was no reply, just awkward silence. It befell us like snowflakes covering a blanket of snow, it wasn’t heavy or intimidating, it was just delicately awkward. So I relied on Mikey’s advice for conversation fillers.

“Well my day wasn’t very eventful, we had group therapy. I hate group therapy; I’m with a bunch of whining bitches! Seriously, half of their problems are self-inflicted anyway. It annoys the hell out of me; can you imagine sitting around listening to people bitch for an hour about how crap their lives are when in reality they probably have more luxuries than half the third world population? So yeah, when I voiced this you could just predict their reaction! I ended up thrown out thirty-five minutes into the session. After that we had to sit in with the heroin addicts whilst they talked about how addiction to one drug lead to the use of more hard-core drugs; the point of this? So we could see how addiction to one substance or feeling can lead to multiple addictions. This was as the therapist said ‘a reason to take full opportunity to get clean before things get out of hand’. So in short my morning was grim. I’d rather have my eyelids taped open and end up hand cuffed to the sofa whilst someone played the same episode of Oprah over and over again for me, than relive today’s events so far.” I finished, trying my best to add in a little humour. But it didn’t seem to work, he just continued in his silence; unmoving. I swear he’d been in the same position since I sat down.

His head hung hiding those magical irises from me, his lips pursed in an almost disgusted manner. The only things I could take in about him were the tattoos resting against the skin of his knuckles and neck. Tattoos that were extremely unique. Tattoos I would love to hear the stories behind… This man was just so mysterious, I wanted to know all about him, and most of all I wanted him to know all about me. I wanted him to see that we weren’t all freaks and monsters. That some of us actually contained a soul within our hollow addictions.

I rested my fork and knife against the rough off-white tray and pushed it slightly to the left of me, which allowed me to rest my elbows on the table. Yeah sue me; I never had fantastic table manners. I began to shift a little more regularly; the nerves that the epic silence between us had built up in my stomach were making me fidgety. Although he wasn’t looking at me I could feel him judging every word that flew from my lips and I wanted him to talk to me so badly.

There was such a mix of emotions whizzing through my mind but the most prominent one was fear, I dreaded awkward silences like no other, and I was currently floating in the most intimidating one I’d ever experienced. This wasn’t right; I was intimidated by him and his prejudice against me, yet I was the one he saw as a monster. If he only he could see that I wasn’t here as part of a plan to hurt him… I tried once more to relieve the tense silence covering us like a tarpaulin. One that only enveloped this table. Making my fingers dance against the grubby speckled table surface I voiced another half-hearted question. It was poor, but the only thing I could think to ask.

“So… you got therapy today?” I asked, searching the depths of my mind for a compliment to save me because it was obvious that conversation was dying. I actually sucked at small talk. I hated it; I preferred to talk about things that truly mattered. Matters that were truly important, so finding interesting questions that came under the heading of ‘small talk’ was incredibly hard for me. I mean what type of fucking question was that, of course he had fucking therapy today, he was after all at a fucking rehabilitation centre. I was fucking up with this so bad. And again my question fell on deaf ears; I could see it in his frail posture that he didn’t want to be here, with me. Trying to fight off the silence I carried on.

“I’ve got one-to-one a little while after lunch. I’m thinking of skipping it to be honest, we don’t get anywhere with it. She’ll ask me what I’ve done today and I’ll reply with something like ‘Oh you know, just defeated the evil mastermind of New Jersey and saved a building full of people from being burnt to a frazzle. All in a day’s work for a sex addict’, because seriously what the fuck kind of question is ‘What have you done today?’ I live in a fucking rehab centre, if she hasn’t noticed, there’s not that many things to fucking do. And then of course she gets all bitchy because I’m not taking my therapy seriously and we end up arguing and I end up storming out. As you can tell I’m so excited for my session with Miss blonde bitch…” I trailed off, having a feeling I ranted a little too much about therapy again. I clamped my mouth shut and began picking at my nails eagerly; needing a distraction. I struck out with another question as my mind drew a boring blank. I gulped and resorted to my last pathetic attempt at combating the ever increasing awkward silence that loomed like a thundercloud.

“I like your new look, it really suits you. What made you want to change it?” I inquired, hoping that this would coax him into conversing. However it had quite the adverse effect, he made a sound that resembled a mix between a dying kitten and a muted squeak before he literally dashed out of his seat. It was the fastest I’d ever seen him move; like lightening. Once he was up he actually ran away from me, heading in the totally opposite direction to my seat, leaving his food where it sat untouched. I bit the inside of my lip; utterly stunned. Something deep inside had told me that for some reason I’d just crossed the line… I made a mental note to clear his things away when I’d finished playing with my own stale portion of food. A small feeling of disappointment pooled in the pit of my stomach, I had never provoked such a strong reaction from him before and it made me feel like I’d just ruined my chances to win over his friendship completely. I think it was fair to say that I had officially already had a bad day and only a phone call to my brother to see why exactly I’d fucked up was in order to try and make it a positive day. You see, I’m a glass half full kind of person most fo the time because if you can’t fix it or laugh about it, you end up depressed about it.

I wandered aimlessly out of the canteen when everything had been adequately tidied from mine and Frank’s table. His reaction had rattled me and I wondered why he’d legged it like that. I mean there were two options; either he couldn’t handle being in my presence for too long, full stop, or the last thing I said had really struck a sore nerve. I may be a complete idiot for saying this, but I don’t understand how a compliment could have evoked that repulsion.

Sighing to myself I shrugged my shoulders as I traced my previous steps back to my room, I was itching to give Mikey a ring and relay the most recent events to him. I knew he’d be angry with me for something, because obviously I hadn’t done the right thing, I just hope he didn’t tell me I was wrong for what I’d done. I really was clueless when it came to sensitive social issues. I didn’t start making friends with people easily until the age of eighteen. I guess I was a classic case of what you would call a ‘late bloomer’. So in other words I didn’t have much experience to draw upon. Being so wrapped up in my own mind I didn’t realise that the only sounds breaking the quiet atmosphere around me were my echoing footsteps as they ghosted across the floor. Making my final turn the high pitched clinking of my door keys joined them.

Once inside I wasted no time before flouncing dramatically onto the bed, pulling the phone on top of me. It had been an exhausting few days for me, and the fact I’d could count the amount of hours I’d slept on one hand made me think it was only fair that I was allowed to be a lazy shit now and again. I rested the console on my stomach as I lifted the receiver to my ear, the highly coiled cord trailed from my ear down to my navel like an albino snake. Lacing my fingers with the plastic coated wires I effortlessly dialled my home number with the other hand. It was almost instantly answered.

“Hello?” I heard my father’s gruff voice boom down from the speaker. My breath hitched in my throat. Could this day get any worse?

“Get Mikey.” I replied my tone just as authoritative and cool, my message short, simple and straight to the point. Me and my dad, we just don’t get on, and that’s where I’ll leave it, because truthfully I don’t want to darken my day even more by reliving that shit too. He grunted a reply before muffled shuffling distinctly floated into my ear.

“Hey Gee!” my brother’s happy greeting made me feel a little cheerier, but I could feel word vomit bubbling inside, it was churning around my stomach violently, almost ready to crawl up my oesophagus and spill forth from my mouth.

“Mikes, I think I did something wrong with Frank today…” I trailed off, knowing that if I didn’t control what I said the whole incident would blurt forward in a mixed jumble and he just wouldn’t understand. He stayed eerily quiet and I guess he was waiting for me to continue before saying anything or misjudging the situation to be more serious than it was. So I obliged. “Well I did as you said, you know, with the one sided conversation and it didn’t work, like at all. He just sat there and didn’t speak a word, which was expected. And I got really scared that things were going to get extremely awkward really fast. You know the tension was already getting to me, I felt under pressure to say something or look like a total fool, and I kind of complimented him… and he froze before he just like… ran. Like not even a controlled walk Mikes, he actually ran away from me like I was infected with the black plague or something…” I burbled, going through it moment by moment, trying urgently to make sense of it myself at the same time. I thought it would at least take some time for Mikey to figure out what had gone on, but as soon as the last word had reached the air I heard an exasperated sigh. An overly-dramatic exasperated sigh.

“Gerard, are you socially retarded when it comes to handling sensitive situations? He’s a rape victim who thinks you’re going to rape him. Do you really think that complimenting him is going to make him think otherwise? Jesus fucking Christ, I thought you had sense, but it looks like I need to spell it all out for you!” He winged, his tone whiney and extremely defeated. Well what did he expect? I wasn’t like him; blessed with the wings of a social butterfly, I was quite awkward when it came to sensitive issues because I was usually opinionated, loud and put my foot in it… A lot. What? I liked to express my views okay? So when it came to a situation where everything you said was being judged of course I didn’t have any fucking sense! And I took no time in relaying this fact to Mikey.

“Mikes… What did you expect? Just tell me the do’s and don’ts because if you don’t I’ll just end up royally fucking up. And Mikey I genuinely don’t want to fuck this up, believe it or not it actually would make my life. I’ve been wanting to do something good natured like this ever since the incident and you know me, my good intentions usually work out! So please, the rules?” I begged, hoping he’d pity me; luckily it worked! For a second there I thought he’d lecture me to quit whilst I wasn’t down as a stalker.

“Fine. But I swear you’re not allowed to ring me again about this topic unless he talks to you okay? I’m fed up of babying you through this! You’re my older brother Gee! You would have thought it was you with the common sense.” He stated, to which I replied with a snort and warm-hearted chuckle. It was true, my brother looked after me more than I looked after him, but I repaid him. I was the one who hooked him up with his fiancé. He owed me, and he knew it.

“Basically, you have to put yourself in his shoes; I’ll help you okay? So you were raped by a sex addict, your whole life destroyed by one maniac who had a need to fuck you into next week. What did he steal from you? Your dignity, your boyfriend, your confidence… he tainted you and he stole your entire persona. You’re left an empty shell and then you’re forced to talk about this in front of a bunch of people with the same issues as your attacker. Your first reaction is irrational; you feel that everyone there wants to do the same. You’re terrified Gee because you feel that if you were vulnerable for it happen once, it’ll always happen… If that wasn’t enough, one of them seems to target you, like your attacker did. He sits near to you and exhibits behaviour that would suggest that he really does want to do the unthinkable to you. You just want him to leave and then! And then he compliments you. Now how do you feel about that?” Mikey inquired. I was totally in the zone, I could imagine every last emotion that was pulsing through his veins, and I actually felt revolted at myself for being so stupid. No wonder he fucking ran from me.

“I feel terrified.” I whispered, realisation dawning on me like the first summer’s sunrise in the arctic.

“Bingo Gee. So the rules? Remember this conversation before you say anything. Remember how intimidated he feels. How scared he feels, and also remember that he’s going to be trying to pick through your words with a fine tooth comb for evidence that you’re going to harm him because he feels if he can spot it early enough he’ll be able to prevent it happening. Like I said have an answer to ‘why did you say that?’ for everything, and if you don’t have an answer why, then don’t say it. Simple. Now bro, if you don’t mind, I’d like some time to relax with my girl. We’re talking about things…” he hinted. I knew my recent idiocy had actually taken a toll on his relationship. Ever since he suspected my re-addiction he ended up venting his frustration on the one woman closest to him, yet another destructive side-effect of my affliction… I always ended up doing this; hurting those who mattered, but I’d change that. I was sure of it. But I was okay now, I knew how to act. After having Mikey work me through how he was feeling, to have him make me understand and put a new light on everything. I got it. I really did… thank the lord!

“Okay Mikes, thank you so much. Tell Al that I’m doing fine okay and tell her I’m sorry.” With that I hung up promptly. I knew he’d only try to argue with me and tell me it wasn’t my fault; that he was just experiencing a normal rough patch with his girlfriend, but I knew otherwise. I wasn’t a total dumb fuck when it came to people, I could understand when I was the causation of a relationship breakdown. Gulping fiercely to remove the knot persistently accumulating in my throat I closed my eyes and took a break from my emotions, slipping in to a thoughtless stupor I rested my hands behind my head; I tried hard to rediscover my happy place. A place that I went to when stress got the better of me. The place that allowed me to take control without resorting to sex…

I tried my hardest to imagine it, the view that used to quell the beast within. I tried to find the song that would sooth its angry animalistic soul, I tried my hardest to remember how I goddamned jailed this monster in the first place… But the fucking thing escaped me. It eluded me like a skilful sparrow avoiding being captured by its predator. I could feel my metre tip and I could feel myself need it. I needed to get laid, I needed dominate. I need to feel in control…

It obviously wasn’t working. I growled, actually felt myself growl as my frustration surged. Where was the nearest whore-house when you needed it? I slammed my hands against my head as if to whack the offending thoughts clean out of my brain, but it didn’t work either. I began to try and regulate my breathing as I felt my chest began to heave in panic. In. Out. In. Out. I carried on like that for a few seconds until my heartbeat began to regulate and my breathing pattern evened out. It wasn’t a long term solution for the addiction, however I found out in my first progression through therapy that I usually turned to sex when feeling stressed, so I could feel in control of something. When I was stressed I had a panic attack; so if I stopped the panic attack before it took full affect I could stop the need to have sex; only for a little a while. But all I needed was a little while. After one-to-one I always had a cheeky masturbation session before another round of group therapy. Don’t judge! If I hadn’t worked out this system I probably wouldn’t be as calm and collected around Frank. I needed to do this so fuck you all who thought that having one off every night was breaking my promise of being ‘chaste’ for ten months. It wasn’t like I was fucking someone, was it?

Sighing I peeled one of my eyes open against my will to peek at the clock. My heart dropped as I realised it was time for one-to-one. Deciding it might be best to distract my mind with hatred for my therapist I opted to drag my body forwards to sit up and consequently leave the room.

Ghosting through the corridors to her room I let my mind wander to the biggest mistake of my life, my mood had officially surpassed saving. My phone call to my brother had only worsened my state and I could slowly feel myself sink into pessimism. Memories floated menacingly around my mind. I remembered the person I used to be before this animal that lurked within ruined me. I remembered the care-free days. I remembered the easiness of it all, I remembered the days where I wasn’t chained to this unholy need to drug my brain, because that’s what it was, sex was a drug. It released the same endorphins that cocaine or meth amphetamines did. Only it was a smaller more natural dose, but it was the same chemical substance. Sex was the only drug I couldn’t free myself from. It would always rule my life, I just needed control. I’d been fighting for it all my life, would I ever fucking win in this conflict with myself?

I found myself sighing once more (something I noticed I was doing too much today) as I arrived at her door. The gloss adorning the white paint made it glitter in the stark brightness of the institute lighting. I huffed knowing full well that my day was probably going to take a turn for the worse. I pushed it open to reveal Miss Bitch perched on the edge of her seat; she was ardently staring at the screen. It’s glow reflecting in the lenses of her red-rimmed glasses. Her expression was startled and she was sucking on the inside of her cheeks. She was obviously very intrigued by what she was reading, so much so that she didn’t even notice my appearance. I cleared my throat rudely to announce my arrival. Her eyes flickered to me and a wicked smirk framed her new expression. An expression I immediately didn’t like. It was like she knew something, something important. I swear that woman was twisted.

“Ah, Gerard. I'm glad you’ve shown up tonight. I have some questions I’d like to ask.” She stated motioning for me to take the leather sofa adjacent to her desk. I already felt intimidated by her, and this was an unusual occurrence. Women never intimidated me, ever. That’s why they were the normal chosen subjects of my one night affections. Men, they were more for the long term. I did as I was told for once and hopped onto the leather, but I outright refused to make myself comfortable. What did this cow have up her sleeve? My eyes drifted to the many qualifications that were framed on her walls. I began to bite my lip in anticipation, the atmosphere in here was usually in my favour, but today… things seemed different. And not in the good way…

“So, considering you’ve had two days to reveal something relevant about yourself and you’ve chosen to actively remain silent I decided to search the police database in relevance to your name. I was trying to rule out the worst case scenarios first, by checking your criminal record and brushes with the police, to rule out any repeat offences. You know to cross check whether you were always a low risk patient, to try and get a feel for your back ground history… when I stumbled across a case from a few years back… Involving a Mr Kayden Blackwell.”

My whole world smashed to smithereens at the mere mention of his name. I felt my face fall, my mouth gape open, how fucking dare she. I felt livid, I guess she saw the change because her superior demeanour changed to one that radiated sympathy. I felt so violated I couldn’t bring myself to think, let alone speak. Memories gushed forth from the night my life was torn apart at the very seams. The argument between us raged in my mind as I felt my eyes well up. He was my one weakness, what conspired between us was the only thing that could make me cry these days. But I wouldn’t let the tears fall. That was what this bitch wanted, a break down, and that wasn’t going to happen. I felt my face flush red as I remember my pathetically stupid actions. My heart ripping as my mind pieced together his betrayed stare and his tear stained cheeks, flushed red with fury and embarrassment. Those creamy chocolate brown irises screaming the same question; why? I felt saliva fill my mouth and I began to swallow repeatedly to stop myself from vomiting. The guilt I felt was as fresh and unrelenting as the first time I felt it…

“I know I wasn’t supposed to, but to get anywhere with you I thought it best to read your police statement, to better understand you… and how you handle difficult situations as well as to learn your point of view of the event… I learnt a lot from what you wrote that night and I believe that now I know your background, you’ll be more tempted to open up to me. I don’t blame you like you blame yourself Gerard.” She spoke hurriedly, trying to save herself by siding with me. But I could see it swim in her eyes; the judgement that everyone felt when they found out the devil I was. Rage surged in my veins replacing my blood. Anger fuelled my cells as I lost complete control of my actions…

“Oh really! OH REALLY! You don’t blame me do you? Well it was my fault, no matter what you fucking say or what you fucking deducted from infiltrating my fucking privacy, you stupid whore. That is my past and I should have fucking control over what you fucking know about me. Don’t you think, considering after all it is my fucking life, you stupid mother fucker. I was the gasoline to that fire, I was the conflict in his life, and I’m the one to blame. His parents blame and so do my own. My own fucking brother knows it was my fault, even though he’d never admit it. You need to get a fucking grip on yourself or you’ll end up in ditch somewhere for fucking with the wrong patient. You think this will help me open up to you? Are you really as blonde are your fucking hair colour? If anything this will close me off from you more, you betrayed me. You fucking manipulative bitch. Kayden isn’t even the reason why I’m here in the first fucking place, so where the hell do you get off? I got over that the last time I was here!” I seethed, my voice rising and rising until it finally reached screaming point towards the end of my speech. I didn’t remember moving but I was now positioned right in front of her desk, my palms flat against the polished maple. I was right in her face and I could literally see the terror seeping into her bright blue eyes. But I couldn’t care less; I fucking hoped she thought I was going to kill her. God knows she deserved it in my books… Seriously, what she did was low and I couldn’t even comprehend how violated I felt right now. I was a mess, that’s for sure.

I could actually feel the vein on my temple throbbing, its blue was probably a stark contrast to my pale skin. I couldn’t believe the fucking vivacity of this bitch, riffling through my fucking records to find out about me. Peering through my life and my past mistakes like it was her fucking business. Fucking finding out about Kayden and actually lording the fact she knew about it over me. I was so angry; I don’t think you’d be able to understand the resentment I harboured towards her right now. It was as powerful and untamed as a tsunami with the force and magnitude of an earthquake that measured off the Richter scale.

“You brought this on yourself by not taking your therapy seriously Gerard. I had to bring the message home for you somehow. I need to know about you to help” She spoke calmly her casual gaze interlocking with my fiery one. I felt my lip twitch in distaste. I could feel another bout of violence invade my system and I had no will power to control it. Help? This was helping? What fucking planet was this crazy bitch from! Well then, I’d let her fucking know what I thought about her help.

“You want to know why I don’t take fucking therapy seriously? Because I already fucking know why I’m here. I’m not one of those fucking idiots you stupid bint! I’ve been here before and I know what this shit is all about, that’s why if you actually got to know me before grouping me in the same fucking group as all those shitheads that are here for the first time, you may have gotten more out of me! I’m here because I lost control, I relapsed because I realised that no matter what I do I can’t control death, I can’t control when it takes me or my fucking loved ones. I lost the grip on my reality because I didn’t see the fucking point if I wasn’t going to be able to control what I had done when/if I died young. I know all that, and I don’t need to fucking talk about it, okay? I perfectly understand myself, I just need to fucking know how to control myself again, after all this time I forgotten everything. That happy place they taught me to retreat into to avoid any destructive thoughts has withered and died because I neglected visiting it. Those steps to avoiding lustful thoughts in inappropriate situations have complete erased themselves from my mind! So if you don’t mind I don’t want to fucking yammer about my past because it’s got nothing to do with why I’m here. I don’t need therapy sessions to get myself over something I accepted years ago, so I don’t fucking bother, because I knew if I told you, you’d focus on that as the main problem for my relapse when I know it fucking wasn’t!” I yelled furiously straight into her face. She looked shocked; I guess she thought I’d start crying my eyes like a baby and start blathering about how unfair life was and how I couldn’t cope. Pah! She’d obviously never met Gerard Way before.

I felt the fury rise to intolerable levels inside me and I needed a physical outlet. Before I could even understand what I was doing I felt my hands swipe angrily across the surface of her desk. My skin collided with a million and one different possessions lying haphazardly strewn along it, all of them landing with an outrageous crash to the floor beneath us. She jumped backwards, the raking of her chair against the floor adding to the commotion we were creating. Time for my final outlet of all my previous hatred, my grand finale before I waltzed out of here. I was going to hit home, just like she had.

“You're a vile person, even sicker than I am. I hope you're happy with what you've just put me through.” I whispered, venom coating every last syllable, each word literally dripping with contempt and distaste. I hoped she could see the hatred swirling in my eyes. And with that I turned sharply on my heel, marching out her office, slamming the door with an almighty force. It shook like a leaf in hurricane force winds as I stormed down the corridor. The betrayal I felt oozed in my system, leaking slowly into each and every nerve my body contained.

Images of that night flashed before my eyes and I quickly saw my vision blur wildly with tears. It was that moment that my worst fears came true. I saw Frank’s startled stare rest on my moving figure. I saw his pools of honey, caramel and jade widen as I passed. The closer I got to him, the more ashamed I became at the fact that tears were now cascading down my cheeks. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him as I passed so I merely held my hand up shading my face from his cynical gaze. I couldn’t believe that fate despised me so much to make me run into him whilst at my most vulnerable. I probably just scared him even more, there’s nothing freakier than a monster that was drenched in tears… Rubbing my face in distress I quickened my pace. I needed my room, I needed seclusion. I needed time to think…

Finally reaching my door after what felt like an hour of wandering in a maze of corridors and hallways I let myself into the apartment. The sun was setting, leaving the room starved of light, so I proceeded to flip the light switch up before making my way into the bathroom. I needed to free my face from the small wet trails my tears had left burning on my skin.

I pulled downwards on the hanging chain that acted as the light switch. The bulb flickered manically before illuminating the small room. It only contained a sink, shower and toilet.

My eyes were drawn to the mirror where they focussed on my reflection. I didn’t see myself though, I saw the monster I was years ago, his hair hung limply around his face, the black circles and bags that encompassed his eyes hissed at me. I saw the evil that danced in his eyes, I saw straight through to the devil that scratched at my insides. He was sneering at me and I couldn’t help but feel dirty; disgusting. He was me, and I knew the face of my inner demon. I could never escape the fact that this thing standing in front of me was the route of all my problems… Who was I kidding? I was the vile one. I leant closer in to examine his expression, my hands clamping down on the wash basin that lay directly beneath the small square mirror that was nailed to the wall. His dull hazel eyes laughed at me and I averted my eyes in shame, anchoring them to the wall besides the mirror. It was simply white painted cinder blocks – they hadn’t even bothered to plaster over it. Cheapskates. My thoughts were ripped from my criticism of the décor though as the demon spoke directly to me.

“You’ll never be able to control me… I’m the thing that makes you. I’m all that you are. You fool yourself by thinking there’s more sides to yourself, you’ll soon see that you’re wrong my friend. You’re always wrong, or do you tend to forget that…?” He cackled to me, his eyes shining scarily in the bright fluorescent light. I felt my lips purse as I stared hard at my reflection.

“Liar.” I hissed at him. I knew he was lying, there were more sides to me than my addiction; I knew I could control it. I knew he was lying, I just knew he was. I’d not forgotten how to get rid of him, thank god. I felt the anger that had bubbled relentlessly all day build up once more. “I know I can beat you, don’t you dare even try to persuade me otherwise. You’re just scared because if I regain control you’ll never see the light of day again!” I shouted, a little louder than I’d originally predicted. He simply smirked at me in response.

“Bet you wish you’d had these feelings when Kayden was still around…” he laughed manically once more before disappearing just as quickly as he’d appeared, but his last words lacerated me deeper than a through and through bullet to the head…

His dark eyes were drowning in sadness; sadness that stemmed from me and me alone. His hunched form straightened out as he sat up on the edge of the bed; the sheets besides him moving along with his graceful actions. He was always elegant though. Kayden was just perfection, in every aspect. From the way he moved, to the way he talked to the way he made me feel loved. From the many tattoos that covered his abdomen to the paintings he created for me hanging proudly above our bed. To the lip piercings shinning in the early morning light to the way his hair always looked so soft; so fluffy.

“'No matter what you do wrong Gerard, I'll love you forever. Your smile makes my day and your presence makes my life.” His words were beautiful and I could tell from the purity that danced in his dark chocolate irises that he was bearing his soul to me after I’d infected him; tainted him. I could see the hurt that I was putting him through, but still it wasn’t enough to save him… It still wasn’t enough to keep the beauty he held from being destroyed… I just wasn’t strong enough.

Shaking my head forcefully I tried to rid myself of my memories. I couldn’t stand to envisage his face and broken empty stare anymore. It just shattered the tiny pieces of my heart that lay splintered within my chest. My eyes floated from my fingers back up to face the failure of a person that stared back at me in the mirror. His neon bright hair, small hazel eyes, pixie nose and slanted smirk, all of his features showed that we were the same person but I knew different, he was still the same monster that he was years ago and I needed to change that. I needed to get shut that diseased freak off from society for the last time. And I think tonight’s mishap had made me even more determined to beat the beast that snarled at me from within.

This chapter was written entirely by "Pfft":http://member.mibba.com/57704/