Vacant Expression

I start to wonder how long it will be before it'll be in those cruel, White, depressing cages of death. How long I'll last. I always knew I'd go crazy in the end it was my destiny. I was made for that. No matter what life I lead if would always lead up to that point. 
As I paced the corridors I feel someone watching me. I spin around, paranoid. No one. Must be my imagination. I have to go and see him today. My patient. Gerard Way. What a peculiar name. I wonder where it's originated from.I still have no more information on him. I'm going to see him now. I thought. So I popped a mint in my mouth and closed my eyes. Hard. Until I could see star and breathed in deeply, smelling the sterile hospital smell mixed with piss, puke, shit and airwic not a nice combination. My eye fly open in surprise as I sense a presence in front of me. Just another doctor, phew. He nods at me. I can see him judging me. Do I turn on my heel an speed away, not noticing where until I'm there. Gerards cell. I nock on the secret window and look through. Nothing. Didn't flinch, move, twitch or anything. I lean away, breathing and thinking deeply. What if he doesn't want help? How will he respond? He nearly killed someone a few years ago. He could kill me, I could feel my heart beating in my chest like a drum. Drumming the anthem of life and death. Something I've always been on the verge on. 
A few minutes later we are moth back in the room I had to leave a few days earlier. I stutter a hi. No response. 
He hates me already I thought. I thought he was plotting to kill me, turns out that is just another symptom of my illness. Along with the paranoia. My illness. A psychiatrist, gone crazy. Thats one hell of a title. 
After I got over my mini- panic track I ty again. 
'so... Gerard... Do you like it here?'
No answer. I freak out inside and decide that us enough. What if he does decide to talk and I hate him. Although he looks fragile and weak, I could die of fright of he just looked at me. With those eyes. I don't want to talk about them. The eyes that ruined my life. The eyes I came to love, hate, fear and desire all at once. The eyes of the cause. The eyes of Gerard Arther Way. 
I quickly mutter something about the end of a session, exiting the room, fleetingly shooting a last look at him. Unresponsive. Staring at nothing. Not even the wall, his vision was much too close to be staring at the wall. 
I again, rush to the bathroom, this time, not no puke but to have a shower. I feel dirty and horrible. Prodding around with Gerards life. Even if he doesn't know. I've stirred something in this man called Mikey way somewhere in america. But he just hung up. I think yet might be related. But it could be a misleading idea. Hd could just be angry that I'd called him. I don't know. I can't face gerard again today so i hop out the shower and dry and dress before sighning out and walking out the door, not noticing I left my house key at work. I trudged along. My house is two hours away from work, but I can't drive as I got dine for drink driving not long back, I could probably buy my licence back by now. But I acne be fucked. I like walking anyway.