Frank and I hopped into the back of mom's car while she got in the driver's seat and drove off. We were taking Frank to the doctor today. Mom and I are really worried about him. He always acts like a little kid. I mean, Mikey's his age and he acts more childish than Mikey.

We got there and I held Frank's hand as we walked in. He seemed really nervous, so I tried to comfort him while we waited. The doctor eventually came in and read Frank's problem.

"What seems to be the problem, Mrs... Iero," the doctor asked.

My mom's face became stony. "I'm not Mrs. Iero. I'm Mrs. Way. Mrs. Iero... passed, a few years back."

"I'm sorry," the doctor apologized.

"It's fine," my mom ignored the statement. "The problem is Frank. He's thirteen but he acts much younger all the time."

The doctor nodded and slid his chair so he was in front of Frank, who sat on the bed, swinging his legs back and forth. "Hi. What's your name?" the doctor asked.

"Frankie," he replied with a smile.

"Hi, Frankie. I'm Dr. Chris. Can you tell me how old you are?"

"I'm eight." My mom put her hand to her mouth.

"You sure?"

Frank giggled. "Yes."

"Thank you, Frankie."

"You're welcome!" Frank answered. He then went back to swinging his legs and drawing patterns in the bed with his finger.

My mom looked to the doctor in concern and he sighed. "I know what's wrong," he said in a quiet voice. "Frank suffers from PPS or Peter Pan Syndrome."

"When you can't grow up?" I asked.

"Exactly. Frank is stuck, mentally, at age eight. Did anything traumatic happen when he was eight?"

"Yes," I replied, quietly. "Frank's step-father beat his mother to death then tried to kill him. I saved him."

The doctor looked a little surprised. "Yes, it's definitely PPS. His mind has seen the grown up world and his subconscious doesn't want to deal with that."

"Is there any cure or treatment?" my mom asked.

"I'm afraid not. You'll just have to raise him. Treat him like any other eight year old. That's all there is for him," the doctor informed. "I'm sorry."

My mom sighed. "Thank you, doctor." The doctor nodded and left the room. "Come on, Frank," my mom smiled. "We're gonna go home now."

I grabbed Frank's hand as we walked out. "Can we get ice cream?" he asked, hopefully.

"Sure," my mom replied, smiling at him. Frank beamed. I smiled back sadly. Poor Frank. He'll never be able to grow up. He'll be an eight year old forever.

Notes

sadly, mikey doens't seem to be a very big character but i'll try