FicWad

This chapter was written by "Pfft":http://member.mibba.com/57704/ (Now known as JephaCakes)
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Nothing could bring down my mood, I was invincible; want to know why? I had made substantial progress on my personal mission to right the wrongs in my life. I was actually seeing results and the gratification held my brain in a vice like grip of good-feeling. I felt accomplished. All this from a few days smiles and laughter from one broken soul, fucked up right? I couldn’t care though, that was the first time he’d ever responded positively to my presence, my words. But I’d still made him happy, he couldn’t escape that fact. I could feel it in the very fibres of my body that this was going to be my chance to redeem myself. This would be my chance to change for good; helping someone else would inevitably transform me into a changed man. I’d experienced a revelation because of him and I was sure that he’d experience revelations because of me; I’d make sure to help him on his recovery. If I could only restore his faith in people he’d no longer have to hide; cower. He’d see with hard evidence that not all people out there want to hurt him. Not all people are nasty and twisted.

It had been baby steps since my mistake of complimenting him but we were slowly getting there. At first it was a small smile, a hardly noticeable crack in his frightened demeanour. However slowly but surely I’d be making that smile grow. The day after his slip up he actually full on grinned when I mentioned the rigidity and poor quality of the meals and how I was sure the dinner ladies were eating the real food we paid for and were serving us cheap shit to cover for themselves; taking into account that the women who served us food had to all be over fifty and the size of a small hippo. I came off as a bit of bitch in our conversations, but truth be told I knew I had limits to how in depth I could go with him in these early stages and I had no other things to comment on. All I could to was sarcastically highlight the downfalls of this shit hole, it seemed to be working though. He found it funny and hopefully when we became friends he’d see the deeper side of me. The side that made me want to help him as well as myself… the creative side of me, the intellectual side of me. Not just this sarcastic ‘monster’ he probably thought I was at this moment in time. I’d proved him wrong; I’d show him the surprising sides to me, sides people would never expect to find. That way I hope I could inspire him into thinking that people weren’t just black or white; good or bad, but there was a certain amount of injustice within everybody, but it didn’t necessarily define their personality. Hopefully that there would help him get over the rape, to get over the feeling that everybody wanted to hurt him…

The fact that this seemed possible was the reason I was lay flat on my back smiling like biggest dork going. I had only just woken up and group therapy loomed, but I couldn’t care less. I re-played yesterday’s breakthrough in my mind. I think it had to be my favourite lunch time spent with Frank ever. I’d been in such a good mood in the first place but his reaction to me just lit the fuse of my excitement so much.

“You know when I was little I used to eat worms and I can tell you from experience they tasted better than this shit.” I voiced my opinion as usual I twirled spaghetti around the end of my fork. It danced sloppily as I wound it round and round, my gaze never leaving the plate. I was exaggerating a little; this was better than eating worms; just about. It was dry, with hardly any sauce and I was so fed up of going to bed at night with a protesting stomach. Why couldn’t they install a McDonalds here?

I glanced up to see if Frank was even looking at me. Yesterday I’d seen him scrutinizing me when he thought I was busy examining the table top. We were getting somewhere lately; he didn’t completely avoid looking at me. However he still refused to look me in the eyes, but he’d started eating his food around me. He’d had half his meal yesterday and the day before that he’d started to touch the rice around the edges of his plate. However this time I got another shock. A smile, a full smile without teeth graced his face, his eyes staring down at his own food. His fork was then raised to his mouth as he took a mouthful of spaghetti. I smirked suddenly feeling a lot more comfortable around him. It always started out like that; I’d get butterflies recently when I walked through those double doors, they’d grow into furious panthers by the time I’d gotten my meal and by the time conversation on my behalf was in full swing they would have vanished as quickly as they appeared. I never really experienced these so called ‘butterflies’ before. It was a little uncomfortable for me, but that what rehab was for right? Pushing your boundaries and making you a better person. Was it proof that I was becoming part way normal? Part way back to the person I was born to be? I hoped so.

Shovelling my own food into my mouth I let the silence surround us. Something I was no longer scared to do, I had taken Mikey’s advice. Silence was also allowed to be comfortable and needed upon times and I wasn’t awkward around Frank anymore. It wasn’t like he was going to reply and I knew this, so the awkwardness was removed from the equation these days. I lifted my gaze back up to study him. He was certainly very beautiful; even now that his gorgeous dark hair had been completely shaved. He had a very symmetrical face, his eyes were large and almost like pools of shimmering liquid caramel in the light of the mid-afternoon that seeped in through the large cafeteria windows adjacent to us. As the silence consumed the table, my mind wandered to my childhood memories as I consumed my dinner. It also drifted to a young Mikey and how much the tables had turned since then. I was always the role model back in the day. He copied everything I did; he always tried to impress me. He wanted his big brother to be proud of him, to love him (which I did unconditionally). It kind of made me sad to think that I’d ruined that special bond brother’s had. That I’d abused this bond when I was desperately trying to get him to conceal the truth from mom and dad. One time I even went so far as to test this bond. I was ten and I wanted to see how far he’d go to try and impress his older brother. The image of the result resonated in my mind and I began to chuckle to myself, completely zoned out from reality. This soon changed though. I saw Frank’s vibrant hazel gaze fall directly on me; eye contact included. Frozen like a rabbit detecting danger my eyes widen, he was looking at me like I was a maniac, should I tell him what I was thinking? I quickly threw my manliness out the window because I knew if I didn’t he’d think I was crazy and run off again.

“I was just thinking back to my childhood with my brother…” I trailed off not wanting to go into much more detail. His gaze suddenly dropped and he became a little more closed off. Mikey’s words floated round my mind. If you don’t have a reason why you said something then don’t say it. Was that same for actions? Probably… I sighed inwardly and decided I may as well confess. “I was like ten okay? And I wanted to see how far my little brother would go to impress me… So I told him how much I always wanted to be a girl because I thought their clothes were really awesome. Trying to big it up to him and he went upstairs and dressed in my mom’s clothes and high heels to make himself seem ‘cool’ in my eyes… It’s just the image of him waddling across the landing in oversized girls clothes and huge wedge heels…” I spoke hiccups of laughter perforating my last few sentences as I recalled the image yet again as it played out in front of my mind’s eye. He was silent for mere seconds before he laughed. It truly was music to my ears as I saw his face creased into a wide grin, the sound filling the air around us; sending out relax vibes. It didn’t last long but his smile lingered on his lips and a spark of humour glinted in his eyes. It was the prettiest thing I’d ever witnessed, and the fact it was a rare occasion boosted its significance. I wanted to hear this laugh, see this smile and spark more often. I never wanted it to leave him. But it soon did and with it he left. A polite nod of his head as he turned and left; gracefully picking his way around the full rowdy tables to the trash. I watched him as he walked away, desperately trying to stop myself from focussing on the movements of his hips.

I couldn’t shift the beaming grin that had once again firmly planted itself on my face. Recalling the events made me feel woozy from the reams and reams of optimism flooding my body. I glanced at the crooked clock hanging lazily from the wall opposite my position. It was time for lunch again; it had rapidly become my favourite time of day. Leaving my room I began to think back to my therapy sessions within the past few days. They hadn’t gone down well in the slightest. I had pretty much sparked up a routine with her now. I would waltz in on time, take a seat and pick my nails in silence for the allotted hour. Somewhere deep down I got the feeling that she was trying to engage me in a battle of wills, believing that she could win out against me after enough time had surpassed. Well she was wrong, I hadn’t given in yet and I refused to make use of one-to-one therapy until she apologized for reading through my most personal tragedies and my opinions of them without my permission.

As I traced the path to the canteen I realized that it was more or less ingrained into my memory now; second nature to me. My mind drifted back to my therapy as I let my autopilot steer my feet. Although one-to-one wasn’t successful, group therapy was getting there, we were now only a few days away from getting down to the controlling and subduing aspects of the course and I was so excited. The time for my rejuvenation as a person was drawing closer, and honestly I couldn’t feel any better inside, however I was ashamed on my reliance on self-pleasure. I had a sneaking feeling that if I stopped my ritual now in a pledge to go ‘cold turkey’ in my approach to my inner battle that I would do something regretful considering I could just walk out of this place any time I wanted… Although I was making baby steps, he still controlled me. He still had an iron grip on my mind, something that actually made me feel disgusted towards myself. I sighed, as I decided to divert my attention to more positive matters.

My mind drifted to Frank as I knew just the thought of the progress we’d made would make me feel accomplished once more; spurring on my good mood. I just hoped Frank was in a good mood today, whenever I caught a glimpse of that impish grin it made the stress of the looming one-to-one’s slowly retreat from my mind. It was a reminder that what she said about my silence being a ‘hindrance to my recovery’ was pure and utter bullshit. It was something that reassured me I could go about healing myself and have it be a success. Which was what I needed right now. The rather hospital-esque double doors swam into my vision as I took in the all too familiar greeting of the now rowdy canteen. Groups of people milled about, their expressions painted in a variety of emotions. The thing that seemed to encourage me? The fact that most of them stood around were smiling, contrasted to the sombre expressions they exhibited on their first day here. Everything seemed contented, and for me this was a sign that today’s lunch would be another successful one. I took my place in the dinner queue, slightly dreading what they women behind the counter had to offer me this time round. As I neared a gorgeous rich herbal smell drifted towards me, making my stomach growl, rather noisily. It was loud and on-going; I guess day after day of being pelted with revolting food had actually made it grateful of a good meal and it was simply showing its appreciation. That’s why I heard an all too familiar sweet sound from behind me. It was my favourite giggle, although it was soft; like it was restrained. I smirked to myself as I pictured the grin that would be resting lazily on Frank’s lips. Getting to grips with handling the sensitive situation between us I resisted turning around to greet him. He was usually here first; I guess his therapy lesson had over run… I hoped he was getting somewhere; it would be nice to see him happy all the time and only a full recovery would aid that.

My eyes scanned the plastic clad areas around me and I soon pin-pointed our usual table. I guess I’d get to sit down first today… Would he sit near me? I suddenly felt a little panicked… Had he found a way to avoid me? Had he done this on purpose so that once he knew where I was seated he could sit somewhere else? My throat started to become dry as I began to doubt the fantastic progress I was supposed to have made with him… I clung desperately onto the hope that he’d sit on the same table as me as I was handed a lasagne by a stout hard-faced brunette. Her frown remained unfaltering as she slopped it onto my flawlessly clean plate; the sauce soon marred its glistening beauty and I likened it to my feelings towards my progress; ruined.

Growing irritable I soon found myself marching over to the table Frank had always sat at. I was hoping it would make a point, that I wanted him to sit with me… But given a choice in the matter I doubt he would. I rested my head in my hand as I focused on the greasy yet appetising lasagne in front of me. Stabbing it with my fork I told myself I had certainly lost everything I thought I had. He’d only been behind me in the queue. Surely he would have taken a seat if he was following me… Refusing to confirm my fears I continued to gaze intently at the food adorning my plate as I shovelled forkfuls into my mouth, no longer wishing to cherish the oddly delicious taste. However to my surprise the chair directly opposite me screeched against the floor, a weight soon dropped down into it and I couldn’t believe that it was Frank that had sat there. My mind wouldn’t allow the possibility; so keeping my hopes realistic I slowly raised my line of sight. It took mere milliseconds to recognise my favourite pools of liquid hazel and harlequin green. Frank had actually chosen to sit by me… Not wanting to ruin the bliss of the moment I diverted my gaze, patiently waiting for him to start eating before I bothered to greet him. It took a few more mouthfuls of food before I observed him picking pieces of vegetables out of his meal, devouring them hesitantly. He’d started to eat like that recently, it was like he honestly didn’t want to, but the need to eat had now won out and he was listening to his brain. I guess that was a good sign right? That he was sat opposite me and still eating…? Eradicating the thoughts flowing through my mind I broke the silence, as per with my usual greeting.

“Hey Frank, how’s your day going so far?” My eyes settled on his hunched form, his regular posture. It kind of irked me a little that he never sat upright, at first I thought it was just my presence that closed him off… but today, he chose to sit by me and yet he was still huddled over himself? It hurt me to think that it was his normal behaviour; he wasn’t someone who should hide from the world… Then he did something I really didn’t expect him to do. He actually met my gaze… For the first time in the whole time I’d known him, he actually looked into my eyes. It made my heart lurch as it tugged merrily on my heartstrings. I finally had a chance to take a mental snapshot of his gorgeous pools of deep coppery hazel eyes. The last things I noticed before he rapidly diverted his glances were the golden green flecks that decorated his irises. He eyes were truly unique, their shape and colour being the features that affected me most. Hopefully one day I could tell him how beautiful they really were. However there was a certain sadness that this moment retained. They say that the eyes are the windows into the soul, and when my gaze collided with his own, all I could detect were broken shards of hollow misery. It unnerved me a little because it really brought home the truth of his situation. It hit me hard just how badly affected he was, but if anything my heart only ached to show him that people weren’t all the same… He didn’t look me directly in the eyes again, as a matter of fact he seemed almost angry that he did it because his eyes remained anchored on his food, watching as his fork picked up and played with his vegetables.

Words failed me today, and although I was elated at the fact he’d chosen to sit with me, elated by the fact he looked me in the eyes, I just couldn’t pick my brain for interesting facts or funny memories. A sudden mood change had taken place and all I could feel was a thunderstorm looming on my horizon. Then realization dawned on me… I really didn’t want to face Dr Klien, I’d ended up depressing myself thinking that Frank had found a way to escape my efforts and now I was failing to regain my earlier high. Sighing I knew it was futile. Things like this happened to me frequently when I was deprived of sex. I’d find that one negative build up would result in me being on a downer for hours. It would leave me in a sort of unmotivated slump, watching as the world passed me by. Feeling truly glum I let the silence linger between us, not wanting to talk. I tried reassuring myself that Frank clearly wasn’t reacting negatively towards me and that I was making progress, but I couldn’t help but think how fragile the evidence for it was… What if Frank only sat by me because he was scared of the others? I was the safe monster. I was the danger with a face to him, but without me there he was vulnerable to unknown demons… I didn’t know what was going through his mind… He never fucking talked! So I came to the conclusion that I’d fed myself false hope. Frank as expected stayed silent. Deciding I should at least fill the void for a few seconds I piped up.

“Mine was okay,” I started, poking at my food. “If I’m honest with you, I really don’t want to go to one-to-one. I think I’m just going to give it a miss tonight…” I replied. The tables had changed dramatically, now I was the one not wanting to eat. I glanced up to see Frank still eating soundlessly, half his meal had gone, but I realised his pace was much slower… It was almost as if he was eating leisurely… I swatted the thoughts out of mind; there I went again; spouting all these hopes that were based on circumstantial evidence. As much as I wanted to help him, Mikey had been right all along… If he didn’t show some progress, like opening up communication between us, then how the fuck could I help? I now felt like I could no longer be in his presence due to the fact I’d end up weaving fairy tales for myself once again…

I politely let him know that I was going leave. Hopefully, that would incite some further progress, progress backed up by hard evidence that I couldn’t de-bunk, because then it would show him that all I hung around for was his company. That I wasn’t sticking around unnecessarily ‘waiting for my chance’ as he probably saw it.

“I really don’t want to seem rude; I’m not feeling well today. I hope you don’t mind but I’m going to leave early. I hope the rest of your day goes better than mine has.” I looked up at him expectantly, just wishing that he’d look me in the eyes once more… but I achieved no such joy. He just paused his actions, his fork mid-air on its journey to his mouth. Not sticking around for a farewell I’d probably never get, I stood up gracefully before leisurely strolling out of the canteen, getting lost in my thoughts. It was times like these that made me nostalgic. The same feelings I felt now, I had felt once before in these exact same surroundings. I remembered the corridors and the grounds, I remembered the breakdowns and break throughs I’d experienced here… All of it beckoned my mind to the past and as I neared my room all I could think of was Kayden. The reason for my first recovery, the first tragedy I had ever experienced and the biggest mistake of my life. My heart began to ache as the fight we’d gotten into reverberated around my mind.

“No Gerard; that was your last fucking chance. You certainly picked your fucking time to betray me didn’t you!? Out of these people here today, I thought you, you would know how to comfort me; console me… Instead I come back here to find… to find this shit!? You make me physically sick. I’m sorry that I ever acted on my feelings in senior year, I’m so fucking sorry that I gave up my place at college just so you could pathetically try to reach a goal that’s so far away from you it may as well be on the moon. I’m so sorry I supported your dream of becoming a famous artist and I’m so sorry I gave you false hope. I’m so fucking sorry I gave you my everything. I really am. If I could turn back time, Gerard Way would just be another name in the fucking year book.” He spat venomously. Tears spilled from his warm honey coated eyes, the dimmed light made them shine copper and it gave his words that extra edge. He was breaking up with me, yet he looked so beautiful. He was so breath-takingly beautiful in the half-hearted lighting, that it pained me to think of all I’d put him through. His chocolate brown fringe fell into his eyes once more and I watched as he swatted at it angrily. He then ran a hand through the rest of it, he was shaking now… I’d never seen him so angry; so pained; so broken…

All the torture I had subjected him to, mercilessly, had final taken its toll. How selfish was I to take and never give. I knew of a thousand men who would have given the world to have someone like Kayden in their lives; yet I still mistreated him… What had I become…? The guilt of my earlier actions ravished me; I stepped closer to him to lamely comfort him, but realisation struck my heart with blackened lightening before I could even wrap my arms around his slouched sobbing form. His beauty was tainted, his unusually pale skin had lost all its brown pigment due to malnourishment and grief, his posture was slumped; defeated and his hung greasy in strands upon closer inspection. It was limp; lifeless, much like I guessed his spirit was.

A lump formed devilishly in my throat, its funny how you only know what you have until it’s gone… His words hurt though, they cut deeper than any mortal weapon and they burnt more begrudgingly than the world’s most corrosive acid. However I deserved every single insult thrown my way. In a way it was a relief, if he was here screaming at me, he was still with me, he was still here. The moment he left, I knew he would never come back to me, no matter how much I begged or pleaded, I felt it in my bones that he would never forgive me; he would never take me back. I had used up my final chance and now I knew if he went through with his threats, he’d leave for good.

Little did I know how right I was… Ramming the door handle down I almost ran into my room, throwing the door shut behind me. I could feel my own tears prickle my eyes as my face began to heat up. This was the worst part; the first breakdown. This was what happened when I only had self-pleasure to rely on… The past just came seeping back and I couldn’t deal with it. I flung myself onto the bed, the mattress groaning in protest as my whole body weight smacked against it recklessly. I was such a fucking screw up, who the hell did I actually think I was? As if I had the strength in me to heal myself, let alone a fucking stranger… I didn’t even know what caused my fucking relapse, who the fuck can’t understand why they relapsed? I mean it just happened; I didn’t know why I started turning to sex again after all those years clean. Mikey told me it was my way of dealing with grief… But for some reason I couldn’t help but think that wasn’t right… Deciding I was needlessly torturing myself I tried to distract my thoughts. I let the tears spill over because I didn’t have the motivation to withhold my pride. I didn’t cry these days, there was only one thing that reduced me to this state, and his memory was the one thing plaguing my mind right now. I’d probably be okay later on, after this breakdown; I’d probably feel happier… for a little while, so I let my emotions take over. I rubbed my face with my hands as I remembered bitterly all the questions the police officers asked me, all the disgusted looks they sent in my direction when I told them what had unfurled between me and my lover. I felt the shame wash over me with vengeance. I didn’t feel like I was a person, I felt like a wild animal destroying everything in its path. Choking on my sobs I remembered how disappointed Mikey had been when I’d told him the truth for the first time. I remembered how lost he’d looked when he zoned out, probably thinking how someone he regarded with such high respect could sink so low…

My thoughts of self-loathing were interrupted abruptly by the shrill ring of the phone beside my bed. It rested calmly on the bed-side table. Quickly wiping my eyes in a vain attempt to feel like I had rid myself of my horrible feelings I picked up the receiver; puzzled… Who in the world could be phoning me?

“Hello?” I answered, my voice was thick from the tears and the tone of it was flat. I knew this side of me too well, and I knew the exact type of feelings that followed it…

“Gerard what happened?” Mikey’s frenzied voice flooded through to my ears, and I closed my eyes tightly. I didn’t enjoy being obvious. When I re-opened them I let my gaze settle on the green scenery outside my bedroom window. Toying with the phone cord I sighed loudly… Should I tell my brother how I’m feeling? Should I dump it all on him? I thought that I’d allow him the sugar coated version, at least that way I wouldn’t bring down his day too.

“Oh, you know… The usual sequence of events when I don’t get any.” I stated coldly. It came out almost nastily, like I was blaming him for my celibacy. I immediately regretted what I said; it wasn’t like he was the one who got me addicted to sex. I did that all by myself, therefore only I was to blame for the lack of it in my life at the moment.

“Can’t you talk to your therapist…? Surely she can help with this shit, that’s what mom and dad are fucking paying her to do.” He sounded angry; irritated, yet his voice was laced in remorse. He knew I didn’t enjoy being here, yet it was his actions that brought me here. The fact he felt guilty for landing me in here was consolation because he understood how unhappy I was. Yet the small blob of conscious that I still possessed thanked him for sticking to his guns and not giving in to my pleas.

“No. You have no idea how that bitch betrayed me.” I spat, my mind wandering to the night she tried to bring up Kayden with me. It stung, like a jellyfish laceration to the heart and I felt tears call to me once more. I knew Mikey was waiting patiently for an explanation so I continued… In a way I hoped that talking over the situation to Mikey would act as some sort of therapy for my exhausted mind. Talking to someone, could just help, considering everybody here kept well away from me. I had a way of repulsing people before they even got to know me… Did I have the stench of a murderer all over me? Honestly…? “So I wasn’t particularly partial to her presence in the first place. She’s just like the last bitch I had here, judgmental… Cold. A corporate drone that’s totally disinterested in my recovery; more bothered about getting her statistics higher... I can’t relate to her in the slightest and I certainly didn’t feel like I could trust her, so I kept myself to myself. I answered her stupid questions like ‘what do you do today?’ with stupid answers like ‘oh, you know, just saved the world…’ and I guess she had gotten tired of our charade.” I paused to let Mikey ask any questions or reply in any manner; however I was met with a soft mummer, one that obviously urged me to continue.

“So about four days ago I walked in there ready to act out the same old play with her and she throws me a curveball. Apparently she was cross-checking my name against the police record database to check for any rapes or sexual harassment suits because she wanted to observe how ‘high risk’ I was as a case and guess what she goes and fucking finds Mikey…?” I asked, my voice betraying how angry and bitter I was, how fucking disgusted I was by her actions. Nobody confronted me about Kayden and got any type of constructive reply. He was my past and therefore only I had the right to reveal him.

“She came across your police interviews and statements?” Mikey replied, his tone inquisitive. He was clearly wondering where this was leading, I didn’t need to hear any type of cue, I simply continued.

“Yeah, and she fucking read them. She rifled through my past, she read it all. She knows it all. She knows everything leading up to it and everything I went through directly after it. I feel so rudely exposed; it makes me want to heave. The way she looks at me in group therapy now, Mikey… I can tell she thinks I’m a fucking worm that belongs six feet under.” I got carried away with expressing myself and I didn’t manage to catch the last thing I said. Mikey knew how close I was to committing the most unthinkable act after the incident… I had forgotten how much talking about my own death worried him…

“Gerard, no matter what you think you see in her stare, she certainly does not think you should die because of what happened. That’s the irrational side of your brain talking because you’re starting to get into the full swing of emotional withdrawal. We’ve been through this before, can’t you recognise it? As for your therapist I think what she did was wrong because it invaded your privacy but… Don’t freak out on me… But I honestly can see her side of things…” At this I wanted to throw my hands in the air and conclude that the whole world was against me, but I simply kept my mouth shut. There was a certain curiosity within that wondered what Mikey saw. I knew he’d explain quickly because he didn’t want me getting the wrong idea. “You’ve been placed in rehabilitation to get better right? And they know you’ve been here once before, so they know for a fact you can get clean successfully, however since you demanded your records be taken from their files upon the completion of after-care she has no fucking clue what’s going on with you, and to be fair, if I know you the way I do… I’d say you didn’t bother telling her shit because you think you can do it all yourself. I don’t want deflate your self-esteem or anything Gerard, but if you can do it all yourself, why are you back here again…? The last experience you had with a female therapist here was negative, but that doesn’t mean that all female therapists are the same… Did you even give her a chance or did you just assume that she was like that? Also Gerard, she’s there to do her job and her job requires knowing your past, she probably thought that if you didn’t have to tell her physically you could just talk about how you feel without having to relive the experience again. Now is that something a total bitch would do? How can she help you if she doesn’t know you Gerard? Just give one-to-one therapy a chance. One session with her, just to see if she really is the way you think she is… She may have to bit firmer with patients in group therapy because she’s out numbered, but one-to-one she could work miracles… All I’m saying is… you never know until you try. So promise me tonight you’ll go in there with an open mind?” His tone was pleading and what he was saying made sense. Giving her a chance couldn’t hurt I guess considering she already knew… I needed some way to distinguish whether or not she was going to judge. I was still sure that she retained the judgement in her stare, but was I the one being paranoid?

I murmured a positive reply as I began to search through the depths of my mind for something to help me protect myself. A few cogs inside my brain began to whirr and soon I found the perfect safety net. If she still wanted to help me, if she still expressed a genuine interest in aiding my recovery, she’d actually try to get me to open up again, like she had been doing. She’d been unsuccessful for a while now and this time, if she still bothered with the same amount of enthusiasm, I may as well tell her… Mikey soon broke the small pause in conversation with a question I wished he never asked.

“How are things with Frank?” he enquired curiously. If he’d have asked this morning I would have probably droned on and on about the endless good vibes I felt radiate from the tiniest signs he exhibited. Now however I could only think of how pathetically hopeful I’d been. Reality really was a bitch, and she was a bitch I did not want to face up to right now. If I explained how I felt, Mikey would only agree with me. I hadn’t braced myself enough to have my worst concerns justified by the one person I knew would get it right. My on-going silence must have alarmed him because he prompted me.

“Geetard…?” his tone of voice wavered and could tell I’d worried him; the use of my childhood pet name was proof of that, but I really didn’t want to do this right now. I didn’t want to discuss Frank at this moment in time. I guessed honesty was the best policy in this type of situation though so I sighed heavily before responding.

“I’d rather not talk about him.” I stated flatly, my eyes wandering over the mahogany rimmed wall clock. Its large hand rested squarely on one o’clock and I knew that I was going to be late for a pivotal therapy session. I hated shutting him out like this, but right now I needed to focus on the situation at hand; my recovery. Considering right now I didn’t feel like Frank and I were ever going to get past awkward one sided lunch time conversations. “Sorry Mikes, I have one-to-one like now. I have to go; I can ring you afterwards if you like?” I offered, hoping that my departure sounded like it was truly needed, instead of an excuse to get out of opening up. In all honesty it was a bit of both, but I seriously didn’t want him interpreting things the wrong way. He agreed rapidly, I could sense the concern as it dripped in his words, but I got over it. If I didn’t it would be just another factor contributing to a very stupid act. I knew if I felt like this much longer I’d fucking waltz right out of here to the nearest red light district. My eyes bugged at my previous thought, I felt almost sick as I heaved myself up from the bed. Now the harder parts came in, the self-control… The one thing I couldn’t get correct… Could the therapist help me get around this mood…? Deciding that attending one-to-one would probably be the best decision of my life.

I quickly scurried away from the four blank, uninteresting walls that surrounded me, out into the lifeless concrete halls of the corridors. The maze seemed to lead on forever, each and every hall way began to stretch endlessly on, time slowed down as I seriously doubted the success of Mikey’s plan. As if this woman cared, as if she wanted to help. All her naivety had disappeared, all I was to her was a statistic, nothing more… Should I just turn back? Just run for the hills and continue living in my filthy pit of temporary highs and dirty addiction? The urge to bolt grew and grew until it pummelled the barricades of my mind like a tsunami would desecrate a small island. I was seriously contemplating turning on my heel and heading in the opposite direction and out of the doors when I noticed that I was literally a thirty second walk from her office. It would exert more energy to run away from my problems than face them. Was it worrying that the only incentive I could conjure up was the amount of energy needed was significantly less…? Pausing outside her door I took a small inhale of air to stabilize my nerves and prepare myself.

Upon entering I was greeted with the usual tapping of her keyboard and clicking her stiletto heels as she bounced one up and down on the hard laminate flooring. Her gaze never left the glowing computer screen and I couldn’t help but feel my heart transform into deadweight. I bet this time she wasn’t even going to bother asking me how I was doing… She expressed no interest in my presence for a good ten minutes before she finally sighed loudly, her exhausted baby blues resting on me.

“How long are we going to keep this charade up Gerard? I can’t help you if you don’t communicate with me.” The words were meant to sound threatening; menacing. Meant to make me fear the silence she thought I wanted to reside in. Trapping my lip in between my teeth I dared to speak the first word to her since she rooted around in my past…

“What do you want to know…?” The words fell from my mouth unexpectedly. For the sake of my pride I pinned it down to the fact that I was feeling incredibly run down and extremely desperate for any functioning conversation in real life. The odd phone calls to and from Mikey were the only times I spoke to anyone and the lack of human contact had me feeling so isolated I guess it had only worsened the low I was experiencing. And if I remember correctly, it all starts to get harder from here on in. When you’ve been getting some regularly (every other day, in my case) for the past year and all of a sudden you don’t get anything from anyone… The lack of endorphins is bound to catch up to you sooner or later… Dr Klien’s perfectly pink manicured nails gripped the edge of the table as she wheeled her chair as far forward as it would go. Her face was the absolute picture of shock; complete with the mouth hanging open and wide eyes. However she suddenly gathered up her act as she sat upright, her legs crossing in that professional manner she liked to convey. She lifted up her pen to chew on the end of it; her teeth clacking obnoxiously against the plastic. I cringed mentally but I knew now that she had taken an interest, I had to uphold my end of the bargain; I had to test the waters…

“I want you to start from the beginning of your story Gerard…” She stated her glare analysing and critical, was it just me or was she going to be judging every last syllable that fell from my mouth…? Gulping back the knot that had formed tightly in the middle of my throat I tried to push my pride aside and draw in my courage to get me through this next hour. Talking about him wasn’t easy, remembering his smiling face made the guilt pool relentlessly in the bottom of my stomach, and admitting what I’d done to him made me want to puke and even uttering my most recent bereavement pulling my heart and mind into despair, but like Mikey said, if she didn’t know everything she couldn’t help… Squeezing my eyes tightly closed I forced out the first sentence; knowing that if I could spit that out, I’d be able to spout the whole fucking saga out.

“Kayden was always a huge influence in my life… It may not have always been positive, but he’d been there since I was young…”