Gerard pov




"Today we're going to be sharing thoughts and idea on how we can try and prevent whatever you're coming here for from happening, this way it'll be already thought out and you can just have a way to act on the situation already." Ms. Brenda tells us, smiling a big grin with her bright pink lipstick.

Great. Sounds, fun. But who am I kidding? I'm going to the help sessions for a reason might as well get something out of it, and we all know another incident is bound to happen sometime soon with my luck. The least I can do or the least these help sessions can do is bring me some kind of sense of security when an incident happens. Just so I don't die.

The chairs are still sitting in the same circle, but this time I sit next to Frank.

"Alright I'll be handing out a paper to each of you. I expect you to draw me a picture and what you think is an appropriate way to respond to something happening." She gets up, and starts passing out papers to everyone.

When I see her getting closer to me, my heartbeat begins to speed up. My muscles tense, my skin whitens in fear. It's just like that stupid dream. Nothing is going to happen Gerard. Jesus Christ calm yourself down. I close my eyes and begin breathing slowly.



Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.



"Gerard?"

I'm snapped out of my trance of serenity, and my eyes open. Ms. Brenda is standing in front of me, holding out a piece of paper.

"Oh, sorry, thanks." I mumble, and take the paper and start to sketch with my pencil.
I let my thoughts take me away, like my hand is moving on its own, spilling out my deepest thoughts even I didn't know I had.

I draw a black figure standing in the corner. Watching me. Its waiting for me. Waiting for me to come home from school. Waiting for its first chance to strike when I'm at my weakest. I remember this character vaguely, like a reminiscent being of my childhood. It always seemed to be following me. It only showed up at certain moments though, like right before something bad happened. I remember I was walking home from school when I was eleven and I saw the figure standing behind a bush in my front yard. I seemed to have all the bad luck then, so I just ignored it. I strutted up the sidewalk into my house, thinking I was all that because I had built up the courage to ignore the black figure. However, when I walked into my house that feeling disappeared. I was met with my parents, bawling. My grandma had died in a car accident that day. I knew never to ignore the black figure again.

If I think I back really hard, I do in fact remember seeing the figure on the way home from school before the sadness hit me. Even if I do t see it, it's there. Sometimes I can just feel it's presence.

I continue my drawing, and it's of me sitting In the center of my room. My knees brought up to my chest and I can see tears running down my face. I don't have a look of sadness on my face, it's more of just a blank stare. My wrists are slit and I can see the blood streaming down my jeans. Sometimes that's the worst. When you feel nothing. I'd rather feel sadness than nothing at all. At least it's an emotion that I can label and use to get me through.

I draw my bed, my lamp, my closet. I draw almost every detail of everything in my room. It's like I'm there. At this very moment, not just me remembering what it looks like, but as if I'm actually there. Staring at each piece of furniture now. Almost as if this picture has teleported me. I continue to draw the black figure. Vague, in the corner. It sits, looking at me, with the same blank stare I bare on my face.

As I'm drawing, I feel tears welling up in my eyes, reminding me of the last incident. It's all too real. I know this scene all too well.

There's a line at the bottom with the words:

"How do you cope?" At the bottom. There's a blank line for my answer.

On the line I write my answer.

"There is no way."

"No one can help." I whisper to myself.

I drop my pencil to the ground, and with that, darkness fills my eyes.




******




"Gerard? Gerard!" A voice says, the sound filling my ears.

I open my eyes, which are blurry for a minute. I can make out the vague picture of an oval like face, with a dark brown fringe on the side of the boys face.

I know who it is immediately.

It's Frank.

My eyes fully adjust to the light and I sit up.

"What happened?" He asks.

I see the whole room staring at me, and that just makes me more self conscious.
"I-I- I don't know!" I yell, and burst into tears.

He holds me close and pats my back. It's reminds me of the last time he did that. I love how he helps me cope.

"Frank, I'll take it from here." Ms. Brenda says, and puts her arm around my shoulder as I stand up and get brought to the other room.

I'm brought out into the other room, and for a minute it's silent.

"Gerard, what did happen?" She asks.

I take a deep breath and hand her my paper. There are words written on it, that I forgot I wrote. I must of written them without knowing. Maybe I put all of the things in my head on my paper. That would make explaining this a lot easier.

There's paragraphs and paragraphs, of words. I must of written down everything.
She continues to read, and then reaches the bottom. When she finishes, she drops the paper and gives me a sympathetic look.

"Gerard, honey." She starts, and I push her away.

"You say the same thing to everyone! You don't want to help me, I'm no different than the others, you just want money!" She looks taken aback by my sudden outburst, but goes back to her calm stature.

"Gerard, why would you ever think that? I have this job for a reason." She says, and adds one of her infamous sickeningly sweet smiles at the end.

I'm disgusted by her.

"No." I say.

"Gerard? What is that supposed to mean?" She says, remaining calm.

I just glare at her, not speaking.

"If this is truly what goes on in your mind, Gerard, and if you can't find a way to cope or don't get better, I'm afraid we're going to have to send admit you into a mental home."
That's what I didn't want.

The one thing I didn't want.

What would I tell my family? How would I explain this to Frank? I don't know if I could lose my first friend already.

"Do you understand?" She asks, and for a moment I forget she was standing there.

"Yes." I mumble, and we walk back into the main room.

We walk through the doors, and immediately, all eyes are on me and Ms. Brenda. I hate the feeling of being watched. I think I've felt it enough in this lifetime. I walk and take a seat next to Frank.

"You ok?" He leans over and whispers, making my ears tingle.

"No." I say, a little harshly.

He has a embarrassed look on his face and I feel bad for my words. Quickly I lean back over to him.

"My place, after this." I say, and turn back to Ms. Brenda who is blabbing bout some useless topic.

I look over at Frank and he's got a grin the size of North America plastered onto his face. Man do I love the feeling of being able to make him smile like that.

Notes

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