Save Me From My Self Destruction. (Frerard)

Chapter 12- Right State Of Mind.

Right State Of Mind-

One of the most possible things worse than being treated poorly is being treated as if you were non-existent. Your life isn't acknowledged and you feel as if you mean completely nothing, you're worthless. Of course people don't tell you that, they're too busy ignoring you. It's worse than being shoved around because at least people acknowledge you and tell you how meaningless your life is. When you're completely invisible you're left to assume that you mean nothing and your mind is left to consume you and fill your thoughts with nothing but darkness.

My parents probably acted as if I was nothing but a dream. I wasn't real to them, neither was Mikey. They just dreamt us up and once they dropped us off at the facility they considered themselves awake. They moved on with their lives, we weren't human to them, we weren't visible. Mikey and I didn't exist, to them we should have been abortions. They second guessed giving me life 4 years late and then Mikey's not too long after he was born.

I guess you can't blame them for wanting to escape, or hide from the responsibility of having kids. My mind tricks me into believing they aren't to blame at all, that maybe I'm to blame. Maybe they wanted a daughter first, maybe I was a bad kid, god knows I am a bad kid now. They weren't to blame for dropping me off here, but they were to blame for leaving Mikey. I didn't deserve a family, I deserved nothing at all and that's what I got. But Mikey? That kid deserved the world on a gold fucking platter.

Everyone wants to escape something, right? Everyone fears something and they yearn for an escape. If only escaping were that easy. People try to escape memories, death, conversations, buildings, tons of different shit. Along with that, that means there's a huge variety of ways to escape and methods.

And as I sat here, staring at the blank wall in front of me, I thought about my way to escape. The feeling was unbearable, for a week straight Mikey hung out with Kristin. My existence was fading away. I felt more and more invisible each and every second, like I was merely just a dream. But I wouldn't be considered a dream, no, I was a walking nightmare. I had no parents, and my brother is furious at me.

I refused to leave my room, I didn't want to face anyone. I was selfish, I didn't want Mikey growing up or him finding someone else to talk to or play with. I wanted my brother all to myself, and I was selfish for that. But could you blame me? I guess you could, it was me to blame for running our parents off. I made this happen, I was the horrible child, and I knew Mikey would realize it sooner or later. But he was my only family, and I couldn't just let him go. I made a mental promise to myself right after I realized we were abandoned, that I would never leave Mikey. It looks like everything does eventually come to an end.

I stared. I stared at that wall until I could see something, anything. I wanted anything to appear on the wall before me, I wanted to imagine a better life for us. I wanted something more than just a stupid fucking blank wall. But nothing appeared, it was still empty. And somehow that represented my life completely.

"Gerard," The helper who I didn't care to recognize opened the door. The helpers have caught on to the fact that if they knock, I will never answer them, so they just take it upon themselves to open the door. "A boy named Frank would like to see you now." And there it was, again.

For the passed few days Frank had tried to visit, the helpers had tried to pry me out of my room, but I wouldn't budge. I would sit here, doing absolutely nothing. I waited in my room alone, waiting for the day they would stop trying. The day I would truely be invisible to man-kind. The day the marijuana would truly be my only companion.

"Gerard," the helper said again, trying to get an answer out of me. I hadn't planned on answering, but her annoying voice was so persistent and it was bothering my peace. "I'm not in the mood." It sounded harsh, but I couldn't find the time to care. I fiddled with the blunt in my hand, slowly and secretly sliding it into my pocket. I was thanking the imaginary heavens that I wasn't currently high off my ass. One of the only times I wasn't, that is.