Rainstorms and Artforms

“Son of a…” I murmured, I was tempted to chase after the younger boy, but as I felt my eyelids sag, to the floor, I decided not to. That book held so much power, and the nurses were on the way to do room checks. If anyone saw what my sketchbook possessed, I’d end up in a higher security asylum. I shivered at the thought of it. This kid was getting inside my head, and I let him. I no longer knew who the monster was, it could be me, and it could be him. It could be me. I think too much.
“Gerard Honey?” a nurse got my attention. “Your door was left open, are you okay?” I looked at the nurse with complete fear in my eyes.
“He stole it.” The simple 3 word phrase escaped my lips faster than my own heart beat.
“Pardon me”? The nurse said concerned of my condition.
“A boy was in here, he took off running with my sketch book.” I said scratching my arms, thinking what he could see in the book.
“Oh Gerard, sweetie we can get you a new book” the nurse said trying to calm me. I was becoming more and more scared, what was in my book. I never flipped back, my whole motive of the sketch book was to document my troubled nights and move forward.
“That’s not the problem.” I said biting my lip. “That book was my only rehab.” I looked at the nurse with my sleep deprived eyes. She looked down at me with sympathy; she looked at me with awe like I was a small rabbit that did a trick or something, pathetic.
“I’ll do what I can do, Come with me?” she said extending her hand, leading me in direction of Frank’s room. There was a trail of my nightmares, ripped up like confetti, like the younger boy was throwing a party with my pain. His door was open; I walked in to witness a maniac laughing with scarring drawings floating around him to the floor.
I coughed to get his attention; he looked at me, and became very apologetic in an instant. “I am sorry, I wanted to see some of your art and I didn’t want you to be mad.” His lie fell out of his mouth like he was planning it the second he left my room.
“Bullshit!” I ran up to him and he dropped my book and shielded his face, I wasn’t going to hurt him, harm to him didn’t even come across my mind as my adrenaline rush hit. I grabbed my book and tried to pick up the scattered pages. “I am not going to hurt you.” I said softly, trying not to alarm him. He quickly hugged me.
“I am so very sorry Gee. Please forgive me?” He said pressed against my side. I didn’t believe a single thing he was saying, how I could believe anything he said to me since he arrived. In that moment, my mind tried to tell me he is the enemy.
“I don’t forgive you; I don’t even know who you are. I told you my whole life, and you laughed it away while shredding my rehab to pieces.” I was so angry I pushed him off of me. “You can’t be some suicide attempt with this type of affection.”
“How would you know? What some suicidal attempt looks like?” he asked standing back up.
I yanked up my sleeve to my shoulders showing scars, “I am not some delusional nightmare head case, okay?”
Fear and anxiety filled his face in an instant, he was shaking. “Gee, I am so sorry. I didn’t know. I thought you were joking, so I joked along. I am so sorry.” He apologized and kept repeating I am sorry, each time I felt like I was closer to forgiving him.
“You whole story was fake?” I asked finishing gathering all of the papers.
“Most of it, yes.” He said as if was in pain.
“Is your name even Frank?” I said, questioning everything. “How do I know if anything is true with you?”
He inhaled deeply, gesturing me to sit by him so we were eye level. “My name is Frank Anthony Thomas Jr. I am here for a false accusation in the court of law and being extremely bipolar.” He said. “The whole severely bullied was the excuse I thought of in court for the mystery of my missing friend.”
“What mystery?” I said once again following every word, and believing him.
“I was close friends with this boy named Ryan, he and I played guitar together and we were just really close. One night he went missing and 2 weeks later they found his body.” Frank wiped away a tear as he started crying. “The reason I relate to you, is because I lost someone close to me without a trace. I was blamed for murder on Ryan. I was labeled insane.” He opened up completely. His story was much longer than he originally said. The excuse that it was so long now made sense.
“I believe you, and I forgive you.” I said without thinking, it made so much sense to me. I hugged him, tight. I didn’t want to let go. He was accused of murder, but I didn’t want to let go of him.
“Really?” he said becoming absorbed in the hug like a sponge in a pool.
“Yes. I understand now.” During the hug I thought of everything, I didn’t know what I was doing, one second I was furious at him, the next I am deeply involved in a hug with a potential murderer.
“Gerard honey, are you okay now?” the nurse who led me in asked, attempting to pry me off the younger boy. “You two can talk more, tomorrow morning, it’s late now.” She said, leading me out of the room. “Sweet dreams Frank hon.” She said to Frank waving good bye. I looked back and waved good bye. As I walked back to my room, I picked up the confetti shreds of terror that led back towards my room.
Once I got situated back in my room, I threw away the shreds of paper, and sat on the edge of my bed with the remaining blank pages in front of me. “Maybe no one was the monster, maybe I am just delusional and lost.” I said.
No one?

Notes

Sorry the update took quite awhile!
XO.ash.