Today started out like any other. Get up, put on my shoes and clothes, Go to therapy.
It was like that everyday day in day out I had the same routine. It helped calm me if the routine got broken the slightest bit I would be completely overcome by anxiety then when it finally left the depression would set in like the plague. Occasionally I would stop by my parents house to see my brother Mikey because I was definitely not there for them. They would make fun of me and pester me saying I didn't need therapy. I tried so hard to shut it out and let it be, it just got to much to bare. I'm currently 24 and I live alone. Mikey still lives with are parents as of right now. I offered for him to stay with me but he said he wanted to try to go out on his own. I feel like I'm doing nothing with my life.
The wind blows my short hair around the blackness blending in with the shadows. I open the door to the clinic where I take therapy. There was a new man sitting in the lobby today. He was twitching his black hair falling in his face while he bit his nails his eye glued to the floor wide and red. I gulped as he looked up at me and I turn away quickly walking over to the desk.
"Hello" I greet to the woman who is always sitting at the front desk.
She smiles up at me knowing I don't like small talk. She types on the computer skimming for a second.
"There's someone in there right now but your up next"
I nod looking at the waiting area cringing seeing the only seat open was next to the man with black hair. I walk over slowly looking down at my feet as I sit down. I glance over at him looking at his hands which were heavily tattooed as well as his arms. My eyes travel up looking at his arms and the tattoos as they were sliced from were his sleeve met his arm.
"Take a picture it'll last longer" He said still staring at the ground.
What does he have eyes in the side of his head? I look at him wide eyed as he turns to me his lips turning up into a smirk.
"I'm Frank sweet stuff" He reaches out for a handshake.
I shiver thinking about the needle pressing into the skin of his hand for those tattoos.
"I-I don't like t-touching" I say still looking at his hand.
He pulls his hand away with a smile. "How 'bout a name sweet stuff"
I gulp down my anxiety. Just pretend your talking to Mikey. Why would you be telling Mikey your name... Idiot.
"G-gerard" I say nervously fidgeting with my shirt.
He laughs putting his hands behind his head crossing his legs and bouncing his foot.
"Well G-gerard" He says with another small giggle. "Whatcha here for"
Calm down calm down clam down.
"A-anxiety and ocd mostly" I say still fidgeting nervously.
I stretches his arm and I could swear I could see something black poking out from his pants. He catches me staring a glares at me.
"Eyes up kid" He says angrily losing his cheerful attitude. I nod my head looking back down
(So thats frank in the story btw. Hope you enjoyed. There is a lot more to come)
