Troubled Thoughts and the Self-Esteem to Match
Starting Over.
How could they?
How could the just dump him like this?
Their son for Christ sake!
What kind of parents take their kids to fucking facilities?
Was he really that much of a hassle?
He pushed the lump forming in his throat away, watching a red Chevy truck zoom by them, as if they weren't fast enough.
His father murmured something to his mother before casting a quick, almost unnoticed glance back at him.
He crossed one slender leg over the other, out of habit, and swiped his light brunette hair down over his face.
He'd grown it out as a barricade, to obscure his face from the cruel world; it made him feel just that bit more security that he clung desperately to.
He was fifteen years old, and had been worn down to nothing.
He had to hear of his flaws daily at his previous school..
He was the silent kid that sat in the back; the one that no one knew, barely even knew his name.
He was the one that refused friends, or even anything social.
He was William Beckett.
Like everyone, he had his secrets, but the worst was the one that he could tell absolutely no one.
The one that ate away at him.
Two years previous, when he was only thirteen, he was raped.
It was a group of regular bullies, who drugged him.
They thought it was funny.
"Give the fag what he wants." they said.
It completely changed him, altered him in every way.
His parents didn't even notice until the first time he tried to kill himself.
Obviously he didn't succeed, but his parents transferred him to a different school.
It didn't help though, and he went on to try to commit suicide two more times,
the third being only recently.
He'd only just gotten out of the hospital when he was informed that he was being taken to this facility.
His parents told him they didn't know what else to do with him, that it was their last resort.
How could sending him away be a resort though?
Facilities were for bad people, like murderers, which he wasn't.
He did nothing wrong.
How would they feel if they had to carry such a burden everyday?
He would miss his hometown of Chicago.
He had never even been out of the state before...Until now.
This clinic was in Madison, Wisconsin, which was about 120 miles away.
The trip was supposed to be about two hours, but it was slipping into their third hour of the trip.
"Almost there."
His father called awkwardly to seemingly no one.
The small knot in his stomach suddenly got a lot bigger, he beginning to feel nauseated.
It would probably only be about twenty more minutes before they were there and he'd have to restart his life, sharing a tiny room with some trouble making delinquent.
**
"Okay, Eugene, could you grab these?"
His mother uttered to his father at the back of the vehicle, he finding Williams bags and hoisting them over his shoulders.
They were allowed to wear their normal clothes here, with the exception of anything like scarves, belts, chains, or shoestrings.
If he couldn't have his scarves, he would probably literally die.
He pulled uncertainly at the bandages around his wrist as his parents began across the parking lot,
forcing him to walk ahead of them.
This place even looked horrible from the outside.
There were towering fences lining the place, and a large, unyielding gate that seemed to loom ten feet over him.
He almost didn't hear his mom buzzing the intercom over to the right.
"Yes, we're the Beckett's." She spoke into the speaker.
"Of course, we'll meet you at the gate." A small female voice crackled back.
They waited in harsh silence for perhaps five minutes before a small, Blondie hair woman appeared,
along with a raven haired man about the age of 28.
He unlocked the gate and pulled it open, welcoming them with a brilliant smile.
He shook his fathers hand, reciting
"Welcome to the Madison Clinic for the troubled."
He took Catherine Beckett's hand also, giving it a quick shake.
"I'm the Councilor, Gerard Way.
I work with the section your son will be staying in."
He informed.
He turned to William then, eyes lighting up with sympathy.
"It's nice to have you here, William."
He wanted to puke.
Who would want someone to be stuck in such a place?
"We'll take him from here."
The woman impatiently interjected,
getting a scowl from almost everyone.
Gerard took the bags from Eugene Beckett and, before turning away,
assured "Don't worry, this is the best place you could've sent William."
How could the just dump him like this?
Their son for Christ sake!
What kind of parents take their kids to fucking facilities?
Was he really that much of a hassle?
He pushed the lump forming in his throat away, watching a red Chevy truck zoom by them, as if they weren't fast enough.
His father murmured something to his mother before casting a quick, almost unnoticed glance back at him.
He crossed one slender leg over the other, out of habit, and swiped his light brunette hair down over his face.
He'd grown it out as a barricade, to obscure his face from the cruel world; it made him feel just that bit more security that he clung desperately to.
He was fifteen years old, and had been worn down to nothing.
He had to hear of his flaws daily at his previous school..
He was the silent kid that sat in the back; the one that no one knew, barely even knew his name.
He was the one that refused friends, or even anything social.
He was William Beckett.
Like everyone, he had his secrets, but the worst was the one that he could tell absolutely no one.
The one that ate away at him.
Two years previous, when he was only thirteen, he was raped.
It was a group of regular bullies, who drugged him.
They thought it was funny.
"Give the fag what he wants." they said.
It completely changed him, altered him in every way.
His parents didn't even notice until the first time he tried to kill himself.
Obviously he didn't succeed, but his parents transferred him to a different school.
It didn't help though, and he went on to try to commit suicide two more times,
the third being only recently.
He'd only just gotten out of the hospital when he was informed that he was being taken to this facility.
His parents told him they didn't know what else to do with him, that it was their last resort.
How could sending him away be a resort though?
Facilities were for bad people, like murderers, which he wasn't.
He did nothing wrong.
How would they feel if they had to carry such a burden everyday?
He would miss his hometown of Chicago.
He had never even been out of the state before...Until now.
This clinic was in Madison, Wisconsin, which was about 120 miles away.
The trip was supposed to be about two hours, but it was slipping into their third hour of the trip.
"Almost there."
His father called awkwardly to seemingly no one.
The small knot in his stomach suddenly got a lot bigger, he beginning to feel nauseated.
It would probably only be about twenty more minutes before they were there and he'd have to restart his life, sharing a tiny room with some trouble making delinquent.
**
"Okay, Eugene, could you grab these?"
His mother uttered to his father at the back of the vehicle, he finding Williams bags and hoisting them over his shoulders.
They were allowed to wear their normal clothes here, with the exception of anything like scarves, belts, chains, or shoestrings.
If he couldn't have his scarves, he would probably literally die.
He pulled uncertainly at the bandages around his wrist as his parents began across the parking lot,
forcing him to walk ahead of them.
This place even looked horrible from the outside.
There were towering fences lining the place, and a large, unyielding gate that seemed to loom ten feet over him.
He almost didn't hear his mom buzzing the intercom over to the right.
"Yes, we're the Beckett's." She spoke into the speaker.
"Of course, we'll meet you at the gate." A small female voice crackled back.
They waited in harsh silence for perhaps five minutes before a small, Blondie hair woman appeared,
along with a raven haired man about the age of 28.
He unlocked the gate and pulled it open, welcoming them with a brilliant smile.
He shook his fathers hand, reciting
"Welcome to the Madison Clinic for the troubled."
He took Catherine Beckett's hand also, giving it a quick shake.
"I'm the Councilor, Gerard Way.
I work with the section your son will be staying in."
He informed.
He turned to William then, eyes lighting up with sympathy.
"It's nice to have you here, William."
He wanted to puke.
Who would want someone to be stuck in such a place?
"We'll take him from here."
The woman impatiently interjected,
getting a scowl from almost everyone.
Gerard took the bags from Eugene Beckett and, before turning away,
assured "Don't worry, this is the best place you could've sent William."
♠ ♠ ♠
Okay, so this is really kinda sketchy right now, but it'll get better. I promise.