Rainstorms and Artforms

Frank stuttered a lot, when he began explaining why he is here; it was like he was trying to compose an excuse. “I um...it’s a long story.” Frank spoke looking down shyly.
“Well I have time.” I quickly filled in, because I did and he already knew why I had to be kept in a mental ward. My mind began to wander away from the current event, which happened quite a lot. I came to realization that I only told him parts of my disorder, but he knew the rest.
“It’s really long G…” Frank started before I rudely interrupted.
“I know, you said it was a long story, and I said I have time and If you waste your time telling me that I don’t have time, you sir are a hypocrite.” I spoke harshly.
“I am extremely paranoid, very haphephopic and your definition of hypocrite is inaccurate.” The boy spit back of me extremely fast, as if he was preparing as I spoke.
“But why, you said it was a long story.” I said in response because him working himself up over a long story and it being less than 10 words made me think, something was up.
“I.um.” He spoke softly; there he goes with the stuttering again. “I was severely bullied as a kid.” He spoke up and I felt somewhat sympathetic, it was pathetic. One second I don’t believe this kid the next I am playing My Heart Will Go On the world’s smallest violin. “These two boys who were 4 or 5 years older than me, they held a knife to my throat on the way home from school.” I felt pain towards him.
“What did you do to get that kind of attention?” I said becoming deep in his story.
“I was in higher classes, teased a lot and stuff but after I was held at gun point and knife to the neck, I became extremely aware of my surroundings, paranoia.” He said not making eye contact. “What about you? Why do you have these nightmares?” He asked looking up into my eyes.
I thought of pulling the 'it’s a long story gag', but I went for it. “My parents were taken when I was 10, not killed or anything, they just disappeared one night, and it was just me and my brother ever since.” I looked into his piercing eyes; he quickly wrapped his arms around me.
“I am so sorry.” He said, pulling himself closer to me.
“Aren’t you haphephobic?” I said trying to separate myself from the younger boy.
“It doesn’t matter right now, you were traumatized.” He said eventually pulling away. “That doesn’t explain why you have these dreams?”
“My mind concocted these horrible creatures that were my only explanation to the event, and even though I am an adult they have taken over all my thoughts.” I said, realizing I just told this new boy, everything. He knew too much.
“I understand.” He spoke up after a long period of silence.
I quickly shook my head, “No way in hell you understand. You can’t”
“But I do Gee!” He said as a weak smile of reassurance grew upon his face
He smiled at my pain, like it was a joke. He chuckled softly for reassurance.
“You okay Gee?” He said softly nudging me.
For someone with Haphephobia, he sure was touchy. “I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay.” I said multiple times trying to rechannel my focus, so I didn’t knock this know-it-all kid’s block off into next week. I felt guilt, and anger towards him. I just told him everything and he smiled his way through it.
“You aren’t. You’re mad, it’s because I didn’t treat your story like it was as serious as it actually is.” Frank spoke up. “I understand, I am not good with social situations.”
I began to think, my mind was no longer convinced that I was the monster, it was all on him.
He was a monster
It’s all him.
He’s the monster.
The monster.
I put so much trust into him, and even his lack of social skills didn’t make me forgive him. “You need to go to your room before the nurses come to check.” I said loudly, pointing to my door. He left quickly without a single word. After he left I realized something. He took my sketch book.

Notes

Are you guys liking it so far?

XO.ash.