Off The Wall.

Fresh Air Is a Killer.

Iero, Anthony, Frank

#22835

PLEASE LEAVE DOOR OPEN

Warning: Patient may be psychotic!

Was written on the paper that hung in a blue hospital frame. I felt my heart beat faster, and I'm not sure why. Was it the harsh sign, the fact that it read "patient may be psychotic"? Whatever it was, I needed to let it go, for God's sake. This is my job now; my responsibility.

I steadied myself and tapped on the wall as I walked through the door frame.

"Frank?" I said as gently as I could. No answer.

I stepped farther into the room to find Frank sprawled on his bed, facing the ceiling. A thin yellow blanket covered his torso and his face, and I found myself shaking slightly out of nervousness. Oz, calm the hell down!

"Hey, Frank," I said. He didn't stir. I dropped into the metal chair by his bed, and searched my mind for words. Nothing sounded right. I had to speak, I knew I did. Come on man! Think!

"Look, I know this isn't what you want to hear, but we need to talk. Please, don't make this harder on yourself. If you talk to me we can get this all sorted out."

"Wydaysaoo?" Frank said, his voice muffled.

"Excuse me?" I asked politely as I leaned closer to him.

He ripped the blanket away from his face and leaned on his elbows.

"Okay, listen. I don't need you fucking talking to me like I'm some broken kid. I don't need anyone talking to me like that. So don't use that sensitive bullshit voice with me because I've heard it before, and I'm done with it."

I stared at him, subconsciously waiting for him to calm down. His eyes portrayed anger, and I couldn't help but notice the redness that spotted his under eyes and cheeks, like he had been crying. Hell, he probably had been.

Shame rushed through my body, and I had an urge to hug Frank, but I don't exactly think that would go well. I swallowed my urge to hug him and closed my eyes.

"Frank, I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--"

"It's fine," he replied, cutting me off. The anger had left his eyes and was replaced with emptiness. "You didn't know."

I nodded and crossed my legs, taking a deep breath. This was going to be harder then I thought.

"What were you saying before?" I asked, making sure to keep my voice normal.

"What? Oh, right. Why'd they send you? Usually Laurie or Dr. R would come in..."

"Would you prefer one of them?"

"No! I mean, um, no. I don't mind."

I smiled at him, and he replied by purposely avoiding my eyes. I shifted in the chair, disappointed at myself for not being better at this.

"I-I know you probably don't want to talk about it, but what happened in art yesterday?" I asked after thinking of a decent way to put it. He continued staring at the wall. I was beginning to get a headache.

"Frank, please. I can't leave until you tell me, so you might as well."

Frank turned to look at me, his face portraying exhaustion. I looked back at him, trying to appear serious. He let out a long breath and placed his long fingers on his forehead.

"I... I don't know how to say it," Frank said quietly. I could see his hand shaking. "Gerard... He came here, and suddenly he's forced upon me, and t-then, he starts acting weird, like..."