These Demons

Chapter Twenty-three

When I tell Kellin about my conversation with the psychologist on the roof top in the afternoon, he doesn't look very surprised.

"Well, you should have seen it coming. Nobody leaves without being told to get more help. It's their responsibility. When we die, they're fucked."

"Thanks for your encouragement, man," I ironically tell him and light my cigarette before joining him leaning against the handrail as usual.
Even he is wearing a thin jacket today because the weather has been getting colder, and that's great because I'm now no longer the one weirdo who runs around in layers of clothes while everyone else rocks their t-shirts.

"Sorry. You should be glad you only have to go to some headpeeper. I have to go to another nuthouse."
"Yeah, but that's because you think about throwing yourself in front of buses."
"At least I eat," he counters and I stick my tongue out.
Rolling his eyes, Kellin opens his mouth to say something, but changes his mind and I'm left with my thoughts again.

It's great that I didn't gain any weight, but I didn't lose any either, so I actually don't even have the right to be proud, I realize and regret what I felt earlier.
I could already weigh five pounds less, but I don't and that bothers me. If...
"Hey, what are you thinking about?" Kellin harshly interrupts me and I'm startled for a second.
"Nothing," I quickly deny and drag on my cigarette, savoring the feeling of the smoke entering and leaving the lungs in my what it feels like hollow body.

"You know," he says, "I talked to my wife today." That snaps me out completely.
"Really? Why didn't you tell me?!"
He laughs shyly and looks away when I try to meet his eyes.
"Well, I'm telling you now. She called me to tell me that Copeland," When I look confused, he adds, "Our daughter Copeland wants to see me."
"You can make phone calls?" I exclaim in disbelief.
"I've been here for a while, matchstick," he tells me with a look that says it all, and I wonder whether I should consider the name he called me a compliment or insult.

"Okay, and what did you tell her?" I return to the actual topic and I notice Kellin starting to seemingly genuinely smile when he opens up. That's a rare phenomenon when it comes to him.
"Well, they obviously can't come here," He waves his hand around to make his point, "But I told her about the other hospital, the one where they'll relocate me next week. I'll have a lot more freedoms there and even a phone, at least sometimes."
"And?" I ask him to make him continue.

"When I cooperate, I'll be allowed to leave the premises for short periods of time, and as soon as that happens..."
"You'll go see them?" I exclaim excitedly.
"The time won't be long enough to drive home the first few weeks, but we'll find a nice cafe or something nearby and chat there."
"And she'll bring your daughter?"
His smile widens and I don't think I've seen him so happy until now.
"She'll bring all three of our kids! I haven't seen them in so long!"
"Man, that's amazing!" I admit.
"I'm so happy for you!"
"Thanks. I really can't wait for it. I haven't even seen my babies once ever since I got locked up."
I'm sure he's a great dad. His children really seem to mean everything to him.

"So you really have a big motivation to get better now," I conclude and he nods. "Definitely. That other hospital will be my chance to finally turn things around."
"And how do you want them to be, besides your recovery?" I curiously want to know.
"I really want my family back," Kellin quietly confesses.
"I almost lost them all, including my wife. I want another chance to get it right."
"Wow," is all I get myself to say.
"That's great."
I admire him for his strength, willpower and optimism and because we've somehow really become something I'd call friends during this very short period of time, I genuinely want him to get everything he wants for his future, but I can't relate to anything he says in any way.
"I'm really happy for you," I admit with my cigarette between my fingers.

"What will you do with your life when you get out tomorrow? Will you go to your appointments?" he comes back to me and I shrug vaguely.
"When I have to. I'll avoid that, though," I truthfully tell Kellin because we're somehow always honest with each other, which is refreshing.

We're even practically alone today because the nurses have granted us the privilege of being alone on the roof and waiting behind the door that leads back to the ward instead. We can't go anywhere, but it's nice to feel a little less exposed.

"Relatable," he answers, closing his eyes to feel the fresh breeze on his skin. Unlike him who clearly enjoys it, I begin to shake and the wind almost makes my teeth chatter.
"And I won't be able to see any therapists when I'm on tour anyway," I add.
Kellin opens his eyes and glares at me.

"You're really going on your big tour with your band?"
"Of course," I naturally reply and find it a little odd that he figured I wouldn't.
"It's my job."
"Yeah, but..."
"But what?" I sharply ask, one of my eyebrows perked. Kellin suddenly looks uncomfortable and lets go of the metal handrail.
"I just thought... With your body being all..."
"Being all what?" A strong sense of anger starts to build in my gut.
"I don't know, man!" he rows back, throwing his arms up in defense when seeing me getting so mad, trying hard to avoid a conflict between the two of us.
"You just don't seem to be really healthy."

My almost chattering teeth gritted, I press: "Don't start with that shit too now. I'm fine and you know that."
Kellin sighs.
"I'm just saying... Your skin is so pale and you have such low blood pressure and heart rate and all that. That's all I meant. "
"Liar," I say. "That's not what you meant. You think I'm of the lunatics too, don't you?"
"Like me?" Kellin jokes, but when I don't join this time, he quickly stops.
"You think I'm crazy too. Just admit it already. You're just like..."
Her.
Fuck.
I run my fingers through my short hair, desperate to finally get her face and voice out of my head.

----

Black Sabbath - Am I Going Insane?