The Deviants

Emotions

"So, considering you already got your GED, what would you like to do next?" My therapist asks as she lightly clicks the bottom of her pen.

My head snapped up from staring at my shoes, I was surprised.  No one has asked me that.

Actually, I doubt that anyone even knows that I got my GED other than my mom. I had to have a parent sign off on it when I was in the retched facility. 

"Ummm I don't know." I voiced while scrunching my eyebrows. Picked at the hang nail that was bleeding on the side of my nail to create a distraction. Only so my emotions don't run wild.

"I mean you had to have thought of it?" She said with an encouraging tilt of her head.

How do I admit that I failed. How do I voice that I'm not going to become much of anything especially not after my months of solitude. I might as well be written off as a nut job and send me on my way.

"What is your most desired thought, what's the thing you want to change in this screwed up world?" I shrugged.

What is it that I truly desired?

I know I wanted to become a nurse but that ship has sailed. I think that dream has become one. Of the past over the past months, when being surrounded by them, I have come to notice that nurses take a certain fire inside them. One that I will never possess no matter how hard I try.

Maybe a teacher?
Social worker?

But then again would any of that be possible in the near future. I need something fast I can't keep living my life in this limbo. I feel stuck, as if I'm frozen here in my worse state.

"I noticed that your past therapist had you write journal entry's. And I think it would be in your best interest to start again." She said while sliding over a small brown journal.

I stared at it.

It had nothing super appealing on the outside. It had simple brown stitching along the spine to hold the empty pages.

"From what I can see from these notes you took well to the journals." She said flipping through the endless pages of notes. All that contain observations and solutions to my very existing.

My messy self was confined to these notes, every aspect of my twisted thoughts and emotions. Well, only the ones I let them see. The really deep stuff is confined to the pages of these journals.

"You mean when I was left to my own mind for days. There was nothing better to do." I said with a sigh while picking up the journal.

Nothing that happens in my brain should be written on paper for others to see.

"I'll do it on one condition..."

She nodded telling me to advance in my command.

"I am the only one to see the inside of these, no one else. I will not be handing this over to you." I voiced while flipping through the empty pages that were only occupied with thin black lines.

Before I could mention anything else she cleared her throat and leaned over the coffee table that held a still full cup of hot tea I have yet to touch.

"As much as you would like to think of me as the villain, I'm not. Although those notes are helpful I would not and will not resort to breaking the trust between my patient and me. I'm not like you therapist in that facility. You can trust me."

She said and put a comforting hand on mine while giving it a squeeze.

~~

The crunch of my shoes in the leaves were therapeutic sound to me.

The  sun had set an hour ago, but my feet still remained on a steady path, as if they had a mind of their own.

I have yet to take this walking route since I've returned. Maybe I have put it off, or maybe I simply couldn't take the guilt I would feel.

The sun was barely peeking up from behind the trees leaving a peaceful blend of blue and orange to the sky.

I passed the large iron gates that tower over me. The warm breeze blew my hair through the air wiping around like crazy.

The narrow winding paths lead me closer and closer to his grave.

As my foot steps slowed all I could hear was my heart beating at a rapid pace.

It was a nice but simple head stone.

"In loving memory of Asher Johnson.
A wonderful son and friend"

A single rose was placed along the base of his grave along with a had full shot glass that still had a golden liquid in it.

It was just recently placed here considering the shot glass is still full.

There was a small trophy that was placed off to the side that I remember all too well. It was a cheap medal statue made to resemble that of an Oscar Award. The little black plate was engraved with gold lettering. From over the years it has defiantly tarnished and become hard to read. But I can vaguely make out the #1 as I ran my finger along the edge.

This had been the award that Max and him had won from the sixth grade talent show.

They had rehearsed nonstop their break dance routine that made me giggle every time I watched. Which was a lot, because I was forced to be their pretend audience every time they practiced.

I remember the smile on their faces when they won. They were suprised but also amazed that they had won.
And being the good friend I was I had brought them flowers. Either way however the outcome I knew they deserved them.

I remember Ash's sweet reaction to the flowers. His cheeks had grew red and he said "sweet!! I can't believe you got us flowers!"
The cool breeze tore me from the past and planted me right back in this horrid present.

I stared at the grey stone that represented the life of one of my best friends.

My hands dropped to my side and rubbed the material of my shorts.
My hands were empty I should have brought him something.

"Hey Ash" I croaked out forcing the lump in my throat to disappear, but no matter how hard I tried there was no avail.

A silent sob broke through my chest. I lowered to my knees slowing myself to gain some balance.

"I miss you so much!" I said as one of my hands dug into the blades of the freshly grown grass. I clenched my fist as hard as I could to resurface through all of these emotions that are now rushing to the surface.

I sat there in silence for what felt like hours. My cry's had lessened to a few stray tears.

I can't help but think what it would be like if he was the one visiting my grave. I feel so much agony, and pain, but most of all guilt.

Not because I couldn't save him, but because I envy him. Of course I am consumed by guilt because I couldn't save him, but I am ashamed that I feel I envy  that he is no longer alive. That he is at peace and that I want to switch places with him.

Everything would be better off I would be at peace and this endless stream of uncontrollable thoughts would finally come to an end.

I don't know what will happen to me when I die, maybe I will become one with the earth, or am sent to heaven. Or maybe even left to haunt my loved ones.

But I can guarantee that anything would be better than this. At least if it were me to go Asher would have been able to live out a long life. Maybe start a family with a lovely woman.

But no, now I'm the one with a long life, one that I will eventually take for granted and not use it to its full potential. I will waste it.

How is any of this fair?

How fucked am I in the head to even envy death.

~~~

A.N

Sooo sorry about not posting for a while!! I have been super busy but I'm gonna try to make this a top priority!!

Th x  for reading and let me know what you think!