HE WAS INSANE .

ACCUSED

The sheer emptiness of the room was killing me . I hated this place . Also the people in it . Not that I'd blame the doctor , he's just doing his job of treating a boy whose father had so harshly brought him there because he made a mess of their home .

"That's the third time this week that he has broken something " , my dad stated . It hurt me to see the utter disgust and anger in his voice directed towards me . I had already started imagining the scene of him yelling at my mother , who had proposed the idea of setting the picture frame in my room , hoping to make me feel guilty before I started doing absurd things .

There's this thing about my parents that they think psychotic people do things deliberately . And they try to fix it with their method of  parenting which involved harassing and humiliation . Obviously it didn't work on me as I wasn't the one who had done it in the first place . The chandelier in the hall and the aquarium in the living room wasn't ruined by me either . It was 'he' who did it . Not that they'd listen to me anyway .

"So ... Can you tell me why did u feel like doing what you did ?" my doctor questioned , examining me as if I was some sort of terrorist from an enemy country being interrogated . I didn't speak .
" Look , I'm here to help you , ok? So tell me , do you have headaches ? Do you have problem sleeping? What made you do it ? " .
"I didn't do it " , I said . "The boy in my room did."
He remained quiet .
"Did you see him ?" he asked .
"Yes."

He sighed . Then he asked me to wait outside while he talked to my father . There wasn't really a point of doing so because I could hear everything thanks to the lack of furniture in the awfully white , headache inducing room .

He informed my dad that I was having hallucinations , one of the main symptoms of my 'disease' , and did some changes to the dose of my meds . I hated those pills . They made me feel numb and sleepy most of the time . And when they didn't , I felt like my mind didn't own my body to command it to do anything .

The drive to home was full of tension . Dad didn't even try to erase the look of discontent off his face . I pitied my mother . She was gentler towards me , but that didn't shield her disappointment of having a good-for-nothing son , rather an abnormal brat who drained all their money for his pills and treatment .

The next few days were pretty blank . 'He' wasn't visiting anymore , neither did the other shadows who seemingly vaporised into thin air . Probably because my parents checked on me every now and then anticipating some disaster . I was feeling lonelier than ever , the urge of passing out remaining constant .

I was sitting on the edge of my bed one such night , staring down into the void . I suddenly felt a jerk inside me . All of the sleepiness fading away and causing a burning sensation throughout my body . I had this strong belief that I was being watched . My skin itched . I sensed a hand on my shoulder .With the newfound energy , I looked up to my side ...

... straight into the glowing eyes of my best friend .