Psychosis.

Chapter 10

Luna's POV, 9:20 p.m.

"Wh-what?" I questioned,

"I'm saying I've been seeing things too. Look, I won't think you're crazy if you won't think I am." He proposed, and I agreed.

"....what type of things, Finn?" I ask him,

He goes silent for a moment,

Then speaks up,

"Like...hallucinations. Crazy ones."

He sounded so fucking unsure, I couldn't tell if it was about what he has been seeing, or telling me about what he has been seeing.

"Well, what are the hallucinations?"
"Well it's hard to explain."
"Why?"
"It just is. If you saw it you would understand."

"Just try to explain it to me the best way you can, you can trust me, Finn."

I'm literally the last person he should be afraid of telling. I DO understand.

"The hotel, I hallucinated that it we...wasn't a hotel. It was like, some kind of hospital." He trails off,

"And I saw some disturbing things, Luna. Things I'd rather not speak about, at all." He says truthfully.

Why does he not want to tell me? Does he not trust me? That can't be the reason.

My thoughts were interrupted abruptly,

".......what about you?"

"Huh?" I question rather stupidly.

"What did you see?"

I take a moment of silence to compose myself, right before I sound like a fucking lunatic.

"I saw a lady in a nurse uniform, Finn. I guess that goes real well with your story, huh?" I admit.

He looked shocked, no, he looked terrified.

"What the fuck..." he said just under his breath.

I wish I could say something to console him, but what the fuck can you say? The whole situation is bizarre.

"But should we tell the others?"

"No." He says a little to quickly for my liking, m'kay.

"Why the hell not!?" I whisper harshly,

"Yeah just a few stoners tripping balls, that's how they'll see it, that's how everyone is going to see it." His tone is angry, I can tell he feels hopeless.

"Our friends are the only people we can confide in." I tell him.

"Yeah and even they think we're good for nothing pieces of shit. We have to just keep it between us."

"They don't think that, that's a fucking terrible way of thinking. Just assuming everyone is out to get you."

"They just might be. You never know people." He looks down at the ground in dismay, I'm expecting him to give me an explanation,

Or maybe something or someone that is the exception,

But no. Absolutely nothing at all.

"What about me?" I ask,

He knows me.

"You know me." I repeat my thoughts,

"And I know you." I finish.

"Bullshit." He spat, walking into the hotel room,

I guess in the heat of the moment I didn't realize we were already so close to the room.

Time flies when you're overthinking.

Why was he being so fucking difficult? He KNOWS he can tell me anything.

We've all been friends for like ten years, although me and him have always had a tension between us two.

That kind of tension you feel when you like someone and they know it, while they like you, and YOU know it.

But nothing has ever came of it.