Never Crossed My Mind (boyxboy)

Chapter Eleven

I hate this. I can't do this.

I felt like I was dying. It couldn't have been more than a day, but it felt like a millennium. I was sweating profusely and I didn't think I could move even if I tried. The room was spinning. White blended with white, I couldn't even find the door. My throat was raw from dry-heaving, unable to spit up anything other than a dribble of repulsing stomach acid. My head was pounding. The lights seemed much too bright. My arms itched, and bruising my feet didn't seem to help ease the urge at all.

The doctors knew how I reacted to being constrained in the padded room. They had to take me out within the first few minutes the first time that they threw me in there. They sent me to my therapist. She tried to get an answer out of me, as to why I had severe panic attacks and absolutely lost it when constrained in there, but I refused to speak. They already knew too much of what made me weak and vulnerable, they didn't need to know that I was claustrophobic, too.

When the door finally opened, and Richard stepped in, my heart rate calmed a bit, hoping and praying to a god that I didn't believe in that I would be released. Richard helped me up, and I left the room on wobbly legs, almost falling more than once. I was released from the strait jacket and led back to my room.

I received many odd glances on the way, some sympathetic, others mocking, but there were no confused patients. News traveled fast.

When I stepped into the room, I first noticed that Mason was asleep...in my bed. I then noticed the dried tear tracks on his face. He woke up as the door was shut behind me.

I stared at him sadly as he rubbed his eyes and his cheeks, not yet noticing that he wasn't alone. As he saw me, though, he sat up abruptly in the bed. "Sam?"

I smirked a bit, but it was forced. "Hey, Mason."

He jumped off the bed. "Sam! Oh my God, are you okay?"

"I'm just dandy," I retorted sarcastically.

"What happened?" he asked softly, taking in my bloodshot and black eyes.

"I hate that place," I laughed manically. "I can't stand it. This is the second time this week, you know? But this time, it was worse. It was worse because this time they made me wear the jacket. That jacket, Mason... It sucks because I..." I choked.

"You what?" he asked gently.

"I'm severely c-claustrophobic," I stammered.

"Oh, Sam..." Mason stepped closer and wrapped his arms around me.

Instead of pushing him away, like I should have done, I relaxed into his embrace, relishing in the fact that he cared for me, and that he actually wanted to see me live.

"You can't tell anyone," I begged. "Please."

"I won't, Sam, I promise. It's okay to trust me. I will never, ever leave you. I," he paused, thinking over his words, "I care about you."

"I hope so," I whispered in return. "I really do."

That was the first night that I let Mason Harpern hold me as I cried, but it certainly wouldn't be the last.