Fantastic Bastards In Monroeville (Frerard)

Epilogue

Two months later

I want to take back every bad thing I have said about Monroeville. White Oaks makes Monroeville look like a Hawaiian vacation. I fucking hate this place and I wish that I simply could have been taken back to Monroeville. I can literally go on for hours talking about how much I hate this damn place.

The first thing I hate about White Oaks is the fact that they don't allow you to wear your clothes. They make you wear these white scrubs instead that are way too itchy. You apparently have to earn your right to wear your clothes, but I don't know how you have to go about doing that. Another thing I hate about this place is that you're not allowed to be in your room as much as you want. You have to stay out of your room when you wake up. It's not like in Monroeville, where you can spend the whole day in your room if you wanted to. They literally force you to stay out, and that's bullshit. You also have to share showers with everyone else here. We don't have showers in our bathrooms in our bedrooms. The only things in the bedroom bathrooms are a toilet and a sink. Do the people that work here not know how disgusting it is to have to share showers with god knows how many other people in this godforsaken place?

I could honestly go on and on about the things I hate at White Oaks, but I can't. The attendees here expect me to get outta my room, as much as I don't want to. I stood in the bathroom, staring at my ugly, fat reflection in the mirror. I swear I've gained weight. I let myself go too much. I also hate how I have a black eye and a few bruises on my face from Frank beating me up, even though I deserved them. I just hate myself period. Without Frank, I am nothing. The one person that completes me is gone...

"Gerard, you gotta come out," said Trevor, the attendee waiting outside my bedroom. I sighed deeply and walked outta the bathroom and out of the door of my room. Fuck the attendees that work here. Fuck them all to hell. Trevor smiled a smile that I swear is as fake as a famous female celebrity's tits. "Thank you, Gerard,"

Yeah, sure...you're welcome, fuckface.

I walked down the hall and turned the corner to the cafeteria, where I grabbed a tray to fill it up with food I won't eat. As much as I don't wanna eat, you have to get yourself a tray, otherwise the people that work here will come find you and make you get one. If you keep refusing, you get the tube. A fellow patient already warned me about that, so I took his advice with a grain of salt. Maybe I'll eat a few bites of food. I need to put something in it to shut up my growling stomach. Today for breakfast it's a cheese omelette, hash browns, and bacon. The bacon I'm staying away from for sure; too fattening. Maybe I'll eat a little bit of the hash browns. I'm not so sure about the eggs here. The ones at Monroeville were awful, so I can only imagine how bad they are here. After getting my food, I sat down at a table and stared down at it. Before I could grab my fork, I felt someone grab a handful of my hair and slam my face down into my food. With food particles in my hair, I turned to look who did it--it was Kyle, a patient that's bullied me since I first got here. He smiled a shit-eating grin.

"Faggot," he sneered. Already losing my patience, I stood up and lunged myself towards Kyle, swinging my fist at him as I grabbed a fistful of his shirt.

"I'll fucking kill you!" I growled. "I'll rip your fucking balls off and wear them as badges of honor!"

"Hey!" yelled Mitch, one of the attendees that rushed over to me and Kyle, separating me from Kyle as another attendee pulled him away. "Take it easy, guys,"

"Fuck you!" I yelled at Kyle, Mitch dragging me to the far end of the room. I gave Kyle the finger.

"Relax, Gerard," Mitch said firmly. I just shook my head and walked outta the cafeteria, pulling the particles of food outta my hair. Now I really don't feel like eating. I don't care if I get the tube at this point. I walked into the day room and sat down on one of the couches and mindlessly stared at the tv, not at all caring what's on. It's some game show. It cut to a commercial break, advertising some brand of beer. I really wish I could drink one right now. In fact, I wish I could drink myself into a coma. I'm stuck in a stricter psychiatric hospital without Frank, the boy that lights up my whole world. Getting drunk would be great right now, if I had the ability to do so...