Light up the Sky

My first day here had been a blur, nothing really happened and Frank didn’t talk much. I found out that this place is a mixture of both school and help put together, which I guess is fair enough – it is a mental hospital anyway. Mental Hospital, it made it sound like I was actually crazy. I wasn’t, I really wasn’t crazy. There was absolutely nothing wrong with me and the only reason that I was here was to prove to Gerard that I didn’t need help and because he had already paid however much it was for me to be sent here – I didn’t want to waste his money.

I was lying in bed and all that I could hear was the steady breath of Frank and occasionally a light whimper or sigh escaping from his chapped lips. He really was a troubled boy; he didn’t seem to realize it though. Surely if he saw how small his body actually was, how worn out his face was, how pale his skin was, he would do something about it. Did he not realize that eating something would help him get back on track to a healthy and normal lifestyle?

And Doctor Rossel said that Frank thought he was actually fat. How could he think that! Does he not look in the mirror? He was disgustingly thin and I was feeling physically sick at the thought of having to stay in this room with him – he looked completely disgusting and almost as if he was a zombie. Of course, I was being completely unreasonable and I wished for nothing more than to be able to run my friend across my arm for being so mean about Frank. Maybe he couldn’t help it.

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I woke up the next morning to the sound of someone’s alarm clock going off and I groaned – it was just like being at home, the only difference being that I didn’t have a father banging his fists against my door, getting ready to verbally abuse me, occasionally turning to physically.

I got out of bed, a habit I had picked up, and quickly slipped a pair of jeans over my boxers and a plain black t-shirt over my bare chest. It was cold in this room, and I could feel a light breeze on my exposed flesh.

I saw that the window was open and went to close it, having to stretch out of the open window to reach the actual window pane to pull it back in. I did so, and locked it shut – shivering slightly and feeling the goosebumps on my skin tingle.

I looked at Frank’s bed and realized that he was still asleep, obviously the sound of his infernal alarm clock wasn’t waking him. The alarm was still going off - and driving me mad – and I started looking for it, not sure where Frank would have kept it. I searched around his bed first, checking in the drawers of his bedside table which held nothing except for a journal and a pen to write with. There was nothing on top of his drawer and I stood up straight, thinking of where it could be.

I tried to follow the noise, but all that did was lead me closer to Frank – and I really couldn’t get any closer than I was already. My head was centimetres away from his and I was trying my hardest to figure out where the noise was coming from. The last thing I wanted right now was for him to wake up and completely freak at the fact that I was leaning over him.

It almost sounded as if the noise was coming from his own head. But that was just stupid, why would an alarm be ringing from his head? Apart from the fact that it was impossible, it was just obscene! I decided that the beeping was going to drive me insane if it didn’t stop and I shook Frank’s frail body lightly, in fear that I was going to break him with all of my fat.

He didn’t wake up straight away, and I continued to shake him lightly whilst repeating his name over and over again.

“Frank, please wake up,” I practically begged for the fifth time and he stirred before opening his eyes and rolling onto his back.

“Mm?” He asked, obviously dazed but not quite able to realize that his alarm was going off. “Yeah?”

“You’re alarm, where is it?” I asked, kind of pissed off at the fact that he was still letting it just go off – when he could probably hear it quite clearly.

“Oh, yeah – right,” he mumbled and reached underneath his pillow and pulling out a white clock.

I groaned, why the hell would he keep an alarm clock under his pillow when he couldn’t even hear it in the first place? I guess he thought that keeping it that close to his head would make him hear it, but quite obviously it didn’t.

He switched it off and I sighed a breath of relief when the beeping finally stopped – it was good to get the ringing noise out of my head.

Frank stayed layed in his bed, his cover brought up to his neck and he lay on his back, looking at me intently. I stared back at him, now standing in the middle of the room and not knowing what to do or whether or not I should move out of his gaze. It was making me feel uncomfortable; he could see all of the fat on my body, all of my imperfections, while he lay in front of me, thin as a bone.

“Why don’t you eat, Mikey?” He asked after a while.

My breath hitched in my throat and I stared at him, why don’t I eat? What a fucking rude question for him to ask me. He had no right – I should be asking him why he doesn’t eat! He’s the one that needs to eat. I don’t, I don’t deserve it.

“Why don’t you eat, Frank?”