Reality

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1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30

30. That's a good number.

Eight more days. Eight more days until I am out of this hell hole full of people and germs and disgusting, disgusting, disgusting. All of it, everything. It's all disgusting. No one knows how to prevent the spread of germs and diseases and one day it's going to take over the world just like the black plague except this time no one will survive. We will be the end of the world because no one can WASH THEIR FUCKING HANDS CORRECTLY

8, 6. 2016

*click* ...*click click click click* "Frank fucking Anthony Iero you've locked that damn door five times, it's definitely locked. Go, take your medicine." Everyday, everyday she says 'take your medicine,' like one of these days I'll actually take it, right. I don't need medicine to alter who I am, I was born like this because I'm going to save this damn world from ending. Jesus christ, maybe if you all would do things how you're supposed to I would take my medicine and the world wouldn't be in danger of ending anyway. 

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"Okay, Gerard. The last portion of your processing is the psychological evaluation. We're just going to do some tests, ask a few questions, interview your teachers, family, ect. It shouldn't take long, and then you'll be on your way to basic training.- Er, well, in a month or so." The recruiter spoke quite confidently to Gerard, who was internally screaming with excitement. Only a month from now, he'll be doing what he's always wanted to. He'll be in the army, fighting for his country and protecting his people. 

Gerard could've signed up to join the army last year, as he graduated last year. But he had a few problems..those of which wouldn't need to be included in the report he'd be giving to the recruiter on his psychological health, right?