Rainstorms and Artforms

I was definitely out of mind during the group discussion, I was avoiding my attention on the conversation, and I had my eyes focused on my sketch book, which became my only priority. I often looked at Frank who was weakly smiling next to me. He was always smiling.
“Gerard would you like to add anything?” Doctor Leto nudged me whom made me accidently spill my pencils to the floor, I dropped my book as well. I quickly picked up my pencils, shaking my head to acknowledge the doctor’s question. I reached for my book, but it was already is Frank’s hands.
“Give it back” I said harshly, reaching for my book as he flipped through it with wide eyes. I thought of an excuse to give him when he reached /the/ page, but I couldn’t compose an excuse fast enough.
“Is this supposed to be me?” He asked holding my book up for the whole group to see. I snatched it from his hands and grunted. “Well is it? I thought your book was for nightmares.”
“It’s my book, it doesn’t say specifically for nightmares. STOP ACTING LIKE YOU KNOW ME!” I shoved my supplies in my pocket as I stormed off from the conference room.
“Gerard wait!” Doctor Leto yelled, but I was long gone. What was with that boy, he always acted so sympathetic around me like he understood, but no one understands. I shook my head and walked into my room; I locked my door and sunk into the corner. I felt immature but I cried.
The first possible friend, in 8 years. He probably hates me this time. My mind kept repeating the words
“I am a monster. I am the monster”
I began to take notice in how much my mind would get to me; everything I said and did was controlled by the same part of the brain that tells me “You’re insane.” I shivered at the thoughts, that my mind convinced me. That I convinced myself. I am insane, I am a monster. My head was right. I am right.
I am a life-ruiner; I probably made the poor kids life worse, than it already was.
I felt a great guilt, which was unusual for me; I barely talked to anyone in 8 years. I wasn’t a talkative person before I was diagnosed with severe Dream anxiety disorder.
The name of my disorder felt so long when it rolled off my tongue, all it meant was I had nightmares, but my head convinced me that I was here for much more than bad dreams. I continued to cry even when I heard a knocking against my door.
“Gee I am sorry.” That voice that unfortunately, I could recognize it from anywhere. Every day since the new boy arrived I would hear that voice. I still grunted on the use of my nickname.
I opened my door, just a crack to see his small face grinning. “What is it Frankie?” I paused after what I just said, Frankie just rolled off my tongue. His grin widened.
“Geez Gee did you just?” Frank asked surprised. I just opened my door gesturing him into my room. I thought if we were on ‘nickname basis’ I should tell him about why I am here, maybe he will open up. He walked into my room looking around at the new environment. “This maybe weird, but I have this weird gut feeling I understand you.”
“Understand what?” I said clearing up my drawings.
“Your reasons?” He said trying to look through the pile of papers I just stacked up.
“I doubt it.” I grunted.
“You don’t really look like a boy with just any nightmares, you hear things don’t you?” Frank asked staring up at me. It was like he was staring straight through me. How could he see the things he was seeing, was this some scripted reality show; I turned to see if there was some person holding cue cards. Nothing.
“How do you know this?” I asked I became tense of his answer.
“Calm down Gee I don’t bite.” As usual I grunted at his use of his nickname, even though we were technically on ‘nickname basis’ it just didn’t feel right. Not yet. “I studied psychology in high school, I know a lot.”
“That’s a college major.” I mumbled under my breath, how much this kid knew so much.
“When’s the last time you’ve been to school.” Frank asked intrigued on our conversation.
“I haven’t been to an actual school since 5th grade; I was admitted here when I was 11.” There goes any of my privacy I was about to tell this kid everything. “I finished high school here, schooling is rare though.”
“So you’re not uneducated?”Frank asked looking directly into my eyes with a piercing stare; he really wanted to know about me. What was he some spy? The thought of him being a spy amused me. I noticed my mind was trailing off topic.
“I am not an idiot.” I blurted out.

“I didn’t say you were.” Frank said innocently so I believed him. Something about this boy made me feel warm inside. I felt like he may actually understand why I am here, but I doubted the thought. Not even genius doctors could diagnose me with anything except Dream anxiety.
“Why are you here, you seem so normal?” I asked without even thinking of any consequences.
“I...um...” Frank began.

TO BE CONTINUED

Notes

A/N I just had to make it a cliff hanger, I'll be updating soon my lovelies!

XOXO .ash.