Demented

Kid from the Breakfast Club

Dr. Eston entered Frank's hospital room. Frank was informed that Eston was going to "interview" him. Something like that.

  "Nice to see you, Frank."

  Frank smiled. It wasn't genuine.

  "You've been getting better, Dr. Ottoson tells me."

  "Yeah."

  "You've been getting headaches though?"

  "Yeah. Because of the blood loss, I guess."

  "That must be a real bother. You've been getting visitors?" Dr. Eston asked.

  "Mm-hm."

  "Tell me who."

  "Gerard, Jamia, Bert, Bob,  Lindsey, um, Ray."

  "They're all your friends?"

  "Yeah."

  "Gerard and Bert- wouldn't expect them to be the visiting type. See the effect you have on people?" Eston smiled.

  "Bert was kind of strange."

  "What about Gerard?"

  "Gerard was the same as usual."

  "You mean off centered, a little rude?"

  "Not at all," Frank shook his head. "Nice, caring, protective."

  "Oh? Caring? Define caring."

  "He checks on me. He makes sure I'm okay and ...yeah..."

  "How does he make you feel?"

  "Good. Better than my parents ever made me feel."

  Dr. Eston gave him a sympathetic look. "Hey? Would you like to talk about the day you were entered in the hospital ward?"

  "I...no."

  "Would it hurt to try?"

  "Probably."

  "Could you give me one detail? It can be very small."

  "I saw flowers blooming."

  "What color were they?"

  "Purple. Two were pink."

  "You like flowers?" Dr. Eston pressed on.

  "Yeah. Me and my sister used to make flower crowns."

  "Did you play with her a lot?"

"Not really. She was more into Harry Styles's hair and texting. I was more into music and horror movies."

  "You once told me music always made you feel better," Eston remembered, sitting down at the end of the bed.

  "Yeah."

  "Did you and your sister share any tastes in anything?"

  "We both liked Morrissey and David Bowie. And Grand Theft Auto."

  "Anything in common with your parents?"

  "You've asked me that before."

  "Over a course of half a year you might remember something."

  "I don't think so," Frank shrugged.

  "We all pick up something from our parents. Have you ever seen the Breakfast Club?"

  "Yeah. I was obsessed with that movie in fifth grade."

  "Do you remember when they were talking about how they were becoming their parents? But they didn't want to? The rebel was violent like his father. The jock played that prank because his father would brag about all the stuff he did. The brain was an overachiever like his parents and so on."

  "Do you think I've picked up anything from my parents?" Frank asked, kind of worried.

  "I didn't get to know your parents that well. But from what I saw, they were determined, confident, dismissive, and successful. You picked up the dismissive side of them."

  Frank frowned. "No!"

  "What's wrong?"

  "I don't want to be like them! Not that part! Not that part!"

  "Take a deep breath, you're okay."

  "No! I hate that part of them! It ruined me!"

  "It's okay, Frank. You don't have to be like that. I understand you do-"

  "You don't understand! You don't understand anything!"

  "Frank-"

  Frank covered his face. "Tell me what you understand! Have you gone through anything like I have, or someone else here?!"

  "No, I haven't."

  "Then how do you understand?! You can only sympathize! You can't empathize! I don't want your fucking sympathy!"

  Dr. Eston got on his feet. "I didn't mean to trouble you."

  "No one means to do anything. But they do it anyways," he sobbed. "Can you leave?"

  "I don't think it's a good idea to leave you in such a hysterical state."

  "I want to be alone."

  He left. Frank crumbled into the bed. He hugged a pillow and he felt like his whole insides fell apart like a rat caught and killed in a mouse trap.

    "I don't want to be like them..I don't want to be like them... I don't want to be like them... I don't want to be like them... Please God, don't let me. I'm begging you. Dear Christ."

    You're going to be just like your parents.

  I can't be like them. I don't wanna treat my kids the way they treated me.

  Frank, you're not even gonna live long enough to turn eighteen.

   Yes I am. Leave me alone.

  You think you're going to marry Gerard and adopt children. You've only known him for seven months. You're only a naive teenager. What do you know about love? You've never experienced love from anybody. What if it's just platonic love and you think it's romantic love because you've never had love in the first place?

  That's interesting. You might be right. I hope you're not.

   Who marries their first love anyways? Do you think Danny married Sandy? Or that Patrick Swayze character married "Baby" in Dirty Dancing? Nooo!

  I guess so...

  But keep telling your self that you'll be with him forever. It's what every high school character and real high schooler does. It's all apart of growing up. No worries. There'll be a lot of heartbreak. Maybe more considering the sensitivity of your personality.

  Oh, that sounds grand. But, I'll just ignore you, and live in my lovey dovey world.

  He's a good kid. He really loves you.

......That's not what you said before. You said no one loves me. You said Gerard was faking...

   Crazy.

  What?

  You're crazy.

  Probably. But you can't change what you said. Unless you're admitting you're wrong.

   You feed me information.

  I know exactly what you mean. But for my "movie" life and for my hope of me going insane, I'm going to act as if I don't.

   Frank, when your life is made into a movie, it'll change the face of cinema. Like The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. Or how The Outsiders changed literature.

  That sounds fun. I'll finally accomplish something. And it'll be a good cause. Spreading awareness about mental illness.

   Making yourself and others happy is the key to life.