Off The Wall.

The Demons Love Him.

Wake me up. Wake me up. Wake me up.

My eyes burned into the darkness, trying to see through the black. I must of been laying here for hours, days, years, maybe even a century. God, what fucking time is it?

I stirred, the thin sheet that they dare to call a blanket slipping off my feet. I grimaced as I attempted to cover them again, but to no avail. The damn sheet slid right back up my calf.

In frustration, I threw off the poor excuse for a coverup and slapped my feet on the ground. I stood up and teetered, , only to find the sheet wrapped around my legs. I let out a frustrated scream as I fell to the ground, hitting my head on my bedside table as I did so.

After my fall I placed my fingers on my head. No blood, which was good. Wouldn't want them think I tried to off myself, would I?

I pushed myself off the ground as I was hit in the face by a blinding light.

"Jesus!" I exclaimed as I covered my eyes with my arm.

"Sorry, Frank." I heard Laurie say. Laurie was the main room attendant and my "caretaker". I had gotten used to her sharp voice by now. I rubbed my eyes vigorously.

"Seriously, are you trying to blind me? What time is it?" I groaned. When I pulled my arm away from my eyes, Laurie was frowning.

"What happened? Did you fall again?" She said with a hint of a smirk in her voice. I grimaced at her. Maybe I should keep count of how many times I grimace a day.

"Yeah, I fell. What time is it?" I asked again, stepping closer to Laurie.

"It's about breakfast time. Get dressed, Frank." She replied as she stepped out of the room. I sighed and flipped open my drawers.

My drawers were filled with regulation clothes: shirts with no writing, pictures, or anything else on them. Either blue, grey, or black jeans. Boxers. That was it.

I grabbed a random shirt and pair of pants and threw off my also regulation pajamas. Sweatpants and a grey or blue t-shirt.

I changed clothes and quickly washed my face (required), brushed my teeth (required), and combed my hair (option). After my hair, a mop of shaggy black hair with a blonde side cut, was styled the way I wanted it, I stepped outside.

Other patients were just stepping outside their rooms. I walked among the crazies to the cafe, waiting in line for my pills and breakfast.

When I finally got to the front, a polite nurse handed me my cup of pills. I accepted it without saying thank you and put them all into my mouth at once. She checked under my tongue, the pockets of my cheeks, and everywhere else before letting me go.

I stacked my plate with sausage and biscuits (the food here was the only decent thing) and made my way to the table I've claimed as my own in the back corner. Already sitting there were Easter and Kai, the only people I accepted here.

Easter's straight up schizo. Her wavy, un brushed blonde hair and spaced out brown eyes made it pretty damn obvious. I knew from the second I laid eyes on her.

She often imagines demons, whispering in people's ears and talking to her, telling her horrid things. I can tell by the way her eyes widen to the size of softballs and her mouth falls into a little "o" shape. She describes them so realistically, I almost believe her. She swears she isn't meant for this life and that an angel will swoop down from above and carry her to heaven to be with her maker, freeing her from her demons. This, I don't believe. But then again, every psych ward needs a resident schizo.

Kai suffers with the worst kind of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Sometimes (well, a lot of the time) he has to go all the way back into his room and do his whole day over again until it's "perfect". No tripping, no slipping, no stuttering, no walking out of a straight line, and no unevenness. None. He literally lives every day on repeat until he gets it "right", which is impossible. When he gets held back from his routines, he flips shit. Hitting, screaming, clawing, crying, the whole damn scene. It's painful to watch him try to live "perfectly".

As I set my tray down, I see Easter and Kai are always talking quietly.

"Hey." I said as I slid onto the bench.

"Have you seen him?" Easter demanded. I glanced at her as I shoved a biscuit in my mouth.

"Seen who?" I spat around the food in my mouth. Kai winced, and I smirked at him. He looked away.

"The new boy." Kai said as he cut his sausage in even strips of four. When he cut them uneven, he cursed and quickly stood up to get a new tray.

"The new boy," she whispered, a strange glint in her eyes. "He's right there, see? The demons love him, praise The Lord!" She said with a squeaky giggle. I turned and followed her eyes across the room.

He sat there quietly, his hair cut short and dyed platinum blonde. His eyes reflected the gold of the lighting in the cafe, and his skin was so pale that I was convinced I could cut it like paper.

A tray was in front of him, and his food was already gone. He sat there, blinking and fanning the air with his dark eyelashes, looking from face to face.

Finally, his eyes met mine.

I held his look and narrowed my eyes. He didn't flinch, didn't even blink. He continued to stare, his eyes burning through mine. His thin lips curved into a small smile, and I could have sworn I saw him chuckle.

I clenched my teeth and looked away, my face burning with anger. That little asshole thinks that he can look at me that way? Bullshit.

Without meaning to, I glanced at him after a minute or so (after I was sure he'd looked away) only to find he was still staring at me. Dr. Franne, the director of this freak show, was nodding and also staring at me. He put out his thick arm and pointed at me. He flipped his hand upside down so his palm was facing up, and with two flicks of his pointer finger he gestured for me to walk over there.

I clenched my jaw so hard my ears rang. I slowly stood up, shaking, and made my way over to him. I heard Easter let out a laugh that was more like a scream as I got closer to their table.

I stood on the edge, as far away from the boy, and looked at Dr. Franne.

"What?" I spat, and I felt myself get angrier when the Doc had no reaction to my rudeness. What the actual fuck was going on?

Doc smiled.

"Frank," he said slyly. "Meet Gerard."