Cybersex •frerard•

"I don't know where to start..." I spoke soft and low. The vibrations of my voice still felt forgiven, considering I haven't spoken a single word in weeks...

"It's okay, just start with your name, hun." My new therapist, Dr. Way said.

Hun...

"D-don't call me that..." I said shakily, lowering my head to look at my quivering knees. Now boney and weak...

"I'm sorry. I won't call you anything that makes you uncomfortable. But please, tell me your name so I can just call you that, yeah?" Dr. Way asked softly, pushing his glasses up from the bridge of his nose.

I nodded cautiously and told him. "Frank. My name is Frank." I said.

"Well, Frank. Lets just start from the beginning. Shall we? What caused you to start all of this?" He asked, leaning forward in his black chair that could spin.

I took a shaky breath and closed my eyes.

This has to be a dream...

I can't believe this is happening...

They found out...

Everyone knows...

"W-when I was thirteen... Seventh grade. Around October. I started to..." I said and stopped. I wasn't sure if I was really ready to talk about this... Not that saying that would help me. According to everyone else, talking about the problem and getting it out of my system is supposed to help. Well maybe I'm different and want to keep it bottled up!

"Take your time, Frank." Dr. Way hummed, lightly chewing at the end of his black ball point pen.

"I, I guess you could say I began to find myself. I found clothes that I felt comfortable in. I felt at home. My music taste improved tremendously. I discovered that I like boys, I-"

"You, you're gay?" Dr. Way asked with a raised eyebrow. Great. Another homophobe.

I starred at him angrily. My eyes dark and hollowed at his surprised tone of voice.

"Frank, it's okay. Your parents just told me... Never mind... Proceed." He said shaking his head.

"Yeah. They said I'm not aloud to be who I am. I already knew that. It's not changing anything. As soon as I turn eighteen, I'm gone. Out of their house, lives, protection forever." I said the word protection like it was a curse.

That's always what they told me.

We're doing this to protect you, Frank. We care about you too much to continue letting you hurt yourself.

News flash. I was helping myself. You're the ones who are hurting me. I would snap back.

"No, Frank. They just highly disagree with homosexuality. They didn't raise you that way, they don't expect you to be that way." Dr. Way defended. I heard that all before...

"Don't defend them! I know my parents better than you, and I'm just not aloud to be myself. Period. End of story. Complete. Done." I ranted. He just sat there, calm as the clouds. It made me kind of annoyed, yet slightly comforted.

"Okay, Frank. Back to the story?" He spoke, pushing his mousy brown hair out of his face.

"W-well. I was, to say the least, different. Everyone was exactly the same. Same clothes, same music, same hair, same phones, same shoes, grades, everything. It was like I was in zombie land. It sucked." I admitted tiredly.

"Mhm. You felt outcasted from everyone else. I understand." He nodded, writing down what I was saying.

I nodded and took his silence as my que to continue. "And, everyone just kinda, shut me out. Y'know? Kids who I thought were my friend began to stop talking to me, leaving me out, not sitting with me at lunch, making up excuses like, 'I promised Emily I'd sit with her, today!' And the rest of the week, apparently..." I said, my voice cracking at the memories. "And eventually, it got so bad...I just didn't have anyone. Everyone else had their own new friend groups. I just kinda sat next to them awkwardly. Eating alone. Sometimes I'd cry. In front of everyone. But nobody noticed. Nobody paid attention to the weird emo kid. I was practically invisible..." I said looking down, a single tear falling from my glazed over eyes.

I looked up at Dr. Way. He was just nodding, looking at me sympathetically.

"I needed someone to talk to...anyone. Anything...the loneliness got so bad. I felt like I was going insane..." I said, never meeting Dr. Ways eyes.

"I went home one day, and nobody was home. So I went in my basement, and found this little black case. I don't really know what I was doing down there. I was just bored. Anyways, I opened the black case, cuz I thought it was pretty." I chuckled. "But, once I opened it, it was a deer knife. It looked sharp. So I took it to my arm..." I said. I heard a little noise come from Dr. Way, causing me to look up at him.

He looked sad. Sympathy written all over his face.

"I-I just kept slashing and slashing... I wanted to feel something... The cuts weren't even deep. Just scratches. But they littered my entire arm... And I had to wear long sleeves. Like, all the time.... Except one time... I went to school with shorter sleeves, and I just didn't think about it."

I looked at my arms. Now blank. Nothing there but plain skin. I smiled slightly and continued.

"My friends told me to stop trying to be so emo like the bands I listen to..." I said, wiping the stray tears staining my cheeks.

"It hurt so bad..." I whispered.

"I understand. I could only imagine how traumatizing it must've been..." Dr. Way said sadly. I laughed at his stupidity.

"That was the least traumatizing moment out of this story..." I admitted.

"Would you care to share the next moment?" Dr. Way smiled brightly, making me smile shortly.

"Well, I just wanted a friend. Someone to talk to. Make me feel like I'm not completely alone and invisible. So, I went on a chat room."