50 Thoughts That Scare Me [Frerard]

Let's Begin With Thinking- Chapter 1

I walked through the chilled New Jersey air, kicking rocks as I walked each step. Thoughts flooding my mind, some happy, some dark. I never really tell anyone what goes through my mind, that's why it's my mind, and not anyone else's. I have the power to think what I want to think, and that's probably the only thing I have control over in my life.

I bit my lip until it bled, it doesn't matter anyway, I'm used to the pain. I sat on an outside bench. I watched as perfectly okay or fine feeling people passed me by. No doubt, that if I could read their minds, no one would be thinking as dark thoughts as I always do. I sighed and looked at the time on my phone. Noon. I continued to watch everyone, the thought of everyone rushing around, not paying attention to what they really have here scares me.

The thought of the single mother in her car, rushing to go to work. The thought of the man in the other lane, how he wakes up every morning, goes to work, says hi to his kids, and then goes to bed to wake up the next morning and repeat the routine scares me. Again, the thought of everyone ignoring the time they have, ignoring the things they have but ignore sickens me.

I sighed and stood from the bench, I looked around once more before leaving. I continued to kick small pebbles all the way home, I never succeeded at kicking the same pebble from the bench, to my home without losing it. Not like it ever mattered, it was just a challenge. I unlocked the front door and walked in the house. The same empty feeling filling my stomach. Of course I'm not alone, I have my parents. Then, I also have a guidance councilor and a therapist. Another thought in my mind I don't tell people, is that I strongly disagree with therapists or guidance councilors, they claim to help you, make it better but yet not push things upon you. When really, it's all a lie, they're forced to sit there and be payed to listen to problems all day, they force antidepressants on the people who could be cured by a simple hug, they force you to change your ways, and most importantly, they force you to tell them your thoughts. My thoughts, are in my mind for a reason, there is a reason why my thoughts aren't in your mind.

"Frankie, don't forget to take your pills." My mom waved a knife in air, the knife she just cut the carrots up with. Yeah mom, that's smart.

"I won't." I said and ran up the stairs to my bedroom. The only place where I can some-what get privacy. Of course I won't be forcing those pills down my throat. Before I got diagnosed with this horrible condition, Leukemia, I've never swallowed a pill in my life. I never wanted to, it's more like a phobia. The thought of being able to swallow something whole, but yet so small, and have the possibility of choking made me scared. As you can tell, I think a lot, and I can get scared by random things. Everyday I'm thinking of new things that I'm afraid of. I write lists of them some times, just so I don't forget about them. Everyone in this town calls me a freak for it, but no doubt if they knew my condition they would pity me, and for that I'm thankful they don't know about me or hear about me. Yes, I understand that it's a horrible condition that I have and I can't control that, but it doesn't mean I want pity for it. I don't need anyone's pity parade. I don't like pity, and I don't like parade's.

I smiled to myself, yes I can indeed smile, I just don't do it often. I believe if you're over positive, and smile towards every single thing, your smile becomes less special, people expect you to smile at everything. Me, I smile at what I think deserves it.

I laid on my bed, throwing the same torn up baseball that's been in here for years on end. I hummed the lyrics to a song that I've had stuck in my head lately, weird because I don't even think I like the song. This here is something I enjoy to do, It's sort of a routine, but not like the people who are stuck in their boring routines, no, this routine is special, because I love it. Others only do it because they think they have to, or are forced into doing it. You will never enjoy life if you're forced to do things, I say enjoy what you love doing and do what you love and enjoying doing, simple as that. No one can take that from you, no one.

"Frank, dinner!" My mom called from the bottom of the stair case. I put the baseball away and stopped humming, I ran down the stairs and began to walk when I reached the bottom. I slowly made my way to the kitchen table and sat in my usual seat. I looked at the plate in front of me, vegetable pot pie. I smiled again, I'm not that hungry but it sure does look delicious. I started to pick the pot pie up with my hands, ignoring the steam rolling off of it, it was like a built in warning to let you know it's hot.

"Frank, use a damn fork for god's sake." My mom narrowed her eyes at my lack of table manors. I shrugged and picked up a fork, poking holes into the pot pie. I heard my mom mumble some curse words under her breathe, I shrugged it off. It's not like I've been put down about my table manors before.

"We go back to the doctors tomorrow, you need more tests done." My mom said, once she swallowed her food.

"Okay. What time?" I looked up to meet her hazel like eyes.

"8:00Am, so be ready to leave by 7:00Am." She reminded me, I already knew the whole "be ready an hour before" routine. That's the only routine I'm forced to follow, that I actually do follow. I have no choices.

Like I said, or thought, earlier, thinking and telling others my thoughts is the only choice I can make in my life. It makes me feel like I have control. But I don't, in reality, I only have control over who I hurt, how I hurt them, what I think, who I tell what I think, and when. Nothing else. Medications aren't something I have control over, or have an option about. But I treat them like an option.

"Did you take your pills tonight?" My mom searched my eyes, most likely to see if I was going to lie. But over the years of the same thing, I've become an excellent liar.

"Yes, I already took them." I stared into her eyes, not cracking a smile, or laughing. Just a straight face, letting her know how dead serious I was being. Or trying to put off at least.