Off The Wall.

Moon Eyes.

"Treatment buddies." That's what we've been named. Me as the leading "treatment buddy", and Gerard as the... God, whatever the hell Gerard is.

He doesn't speak. He doesn't laugh. He doesn't make any noise at all. He only uses his full, golden eyes that break through every possible wall. It made me want to run the other direction when I saw him, but not before ripping those moon-like eyes out of his skull.

We were in group, listening to Oliver (a rather depressing thirteen year old boy with bipolar disorder) talk about his recent visit with his parents.

"I mean, I might as well have just stayed here," he said quietly and very sadly. "They were like they always are. Cold as ice, but basking in fake heat. I'd rather be here then with them." He said them in such a hushed voice that I could hardly hear him.

After he'd spoken, everyone clapped with two fingers (a method for "building self-esteem") and Oliver stared at his hands. I felt bad for the kid.

We went around the circular table, everyone speaking about their own shitty visits. Each story was the same, and I found myself counting seconds between the ticking of the clock when it struck a minute. It was off by fourteen seconds.

"Frank?" Said Ms. Perry, our group leader. I jerked my head towards her and gave her an annoyed look, bothered that she made me lose track of my counting.

"Yes?" I spat at her. She withdrew a bit, but didn't stop prodding me.

"Would you like to share about your family visit?" She asked. I stared at her, shocked and disgusted that she bothered to ask me. I never talk in group.

"No." I said as I turned my head away, continuing to stare at the clock. Now I had to start all over again.

"Frank," she said again, and I let out a perfected, angry scream.

I heard someone, most likely a worker, stand up. Ms. Perry told them to sit down, and I heard them do so.

"Frank, please. Just tell us about your visit." She said in a far too gentle voice. I prepared myself to scream again, but Ms. Perry sensed it.

"Dear, I know you don't like being with your family. I know it hurts you, even if you don't want to admit it, but you can't keep it inside forever. How are you ever going to heal?" She said, dragging her words out like I was seven years old.

Without thinking, I stood up causing my chair to crash to the ground. I felt blood rush to my head as I turned to her and slammed my fists on the desk.

"YOU DON'T KNOW SHIT." I screamed as my eyes were covered in red spots.

"Frank, please!" I heard a voice say, but by then I was gone.

The world went black as I destroyed everything in sight.

* * *

Everything hurts.

They tell you things get better. They tell you that it won't hurt, you won't feel a thing. It's a lie.

When they promise you that you'll be okay, that you can get well, know that it's never true. Not for me, not for anyone living in this dark, destructive world.

We're all fucked, one way or the other. It's all going to end, and we all end up memories. Sparking and burning in people's minds, we destroy their thoughts and their past, also crushing their future.

That's what people like me are like.

We destroy. We hurt people, we rip ourselves apart to try to glue ourselves back together.

I would hurt someone. I would kill someone without a second though, without a regret, without a care. I would rip out their throat after blowing their brains straight out of their head and onto the ceiling. I would stab into their stomach, feeling the organs tear apart under the knife. I would laugh, my smile red and bloodstained. No regrets.

That's why I need to die.

(Hello lovelies. As you can see, I made some MCR and Leathermouth references here; I was feeling it. xD Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Love you lots. xox)