Mad World

Kaleb had been taken in to custody. They took him in that night. His stupid ass was so wasted, he went back home, not thinking twice about what he'd just done. It made me feel slightly better.

And then there was my soul...

I stare at me face. Covered with dry tears and dry snot. Hair greasy and stringy. Mouth swollen on the outside and cut on the inside.

I stripped and got in the shower. I picked up a wash cloth, a bar of soap, and began to slowly lather my arms. When I looked down at my legs, I saw the blood trails down my legs. I dropped to the tiles on my knees and cried.

The memories flooded back. A horror movie unfurling before my eyes. I don't want to close my eyes. I don't want to feel. I don't want to feel the pain. I didn't want to hear the noise. Didn't want to hear his voice.

The pistol hitting my lips.
The blood running down my legs.
Crying.
He was inside me.
So much rage.
My innocence.
My soul.
Save my soul from the evil...

There was no God.
Where was my God?
Where had He gone?
Why'd He let this happen to me?

I hugged my knees to my chest and rocked back and forth underneath the spray of water, bawling like a baby. And abruptly, without thinking about it, I screamed as loud as I could, my rage making itself known. My inner-homosexual had died along with my innocence and the fingers of this heartless monster still had a hold on my sanity. I screamed and screamed, probably startling Mikey and Mom. I ripped at my hair and smacked the wet tiles.

I was so caught up in my tantrum that I hadn't noticed Mom opening the shower door. She got on her knees, stopped the running water, and cradled me. She shushed me and kissed my wet hair. I continued to cry on her shoulder.

"Mama!" I sobbed. "Mama, I'm so scared!"

"I know, baby. I'm here." she replied, trying hard not to cry. She rocked me in her arms and continued to shush me. "Baby, I'm here. Stop crying. You're with Mama. Stop it, baby."

Her voice soothed me so much. It took me back to my childhood. Mom rubbed my back and kissed my forehead. She wiped away my tears and sighed.

"Come one, Gerard. Dry off and get dressed. Come one, baby." she said encouragingly.

She gave me a towel, which I wrapped around myself. She led me to my room, where I sat on my bed, sniffling and hiccuping. Mom searched through my drawers to get clean clothes for me to wear. She'd been humming a song her mom sang to her when she was upset. She sang it to me whenever I was distraught over something. She sat beside me, my clothes in her lap. I stared vacantly at the floor, still hiccuping.

"Gerard, baby, I'm so sorry you had to go through that. Whoever did this to you is going to be put away for a very long time. By the time he gets out, you'll have graduated from high school and gone pursuing your art career. I want to help you forget all of this, baby boy. Mama's gonna get you help. Will you agree to taking therapy sessions? Just for a little while?"

Instead of answering her, I said, "Mama...there is no God, is there? There never was."

"What are you talking about?"

"God wouldn't let this happen to me. You promised God would protect me." I broke out in tears again and whispered, "And you lied." I finally looked at her. "You. Lied. To. Me."

"Gerard," Mom whispered back.

I let another scream rip passed my throat, directing it toward her. She tensed, staring at me with wide eyes.

"Baby,"

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I FUCKING HATE YOU!" I screamed until I was out of air. "You fucking lied to me! I hate you! Get the fuck out of my room! Get the fuck out!!!"

Mom's eyes welled with tears. She bit her lip and nodded. She stood, set my clean clothes on the bed, and slowly walked out of the room, whispering "I love you". I screamed again and ran to shut the door in her face and lock it.

My head was spinning. I was seeing black spots and the room was turning. I crawled across the room to get my clothes, but the floor seemed to move underneath me and I tipped over on my side. My heart beat sped up, my breathing quickened, and a major headache developed. I vomited, the acid spilling over my cheek and onto the carpeted floor. I didn't have the strength to get up and clean it because the room was still spinning and the pain in my head was fierce. Like someone was inside my skull, hitting the bone with a pick-ax repeatedly. My hands began to tremble and my whole body went cold.

I was having an anxiety attack.

I vomited again, gagging and chocking on it. I turned over on my stomach and pushed myself up with my hands. I swayed and my body was suddenly hot and I was sweating a lot. I got to my feet and pitched over on the bed, fainting into complete darkness.

When I woke up, it was dark outside. I was fully dressed. I threw the blankets off my body and sat up, but was restrained. I shoved whoever was holding me down and screamed. Someone screamed too and a body hit the floor.

"Gerard, it's me." someone said from the floor. I quickly turned on the reading lamp that was clipped to the headboard of my bed and looked over the edge. Frank was sitting up and looking at me.

"Get up here. And don't ever scare me like that again." I demanded. He sat beside me on the bed and took my hand in his.

"I wouldn't intentionally try to, babe." he said back.

"When did you get here? What time is it? How'd I get dressed?"

"Your mom called me an hour after she saw you passed out. She was convinced you were asleep, but couldn't explain the vomit on the floor...?"

"I had an anxiety attack." I simply replied, running my fingers through my hair.

"Oh, baby." Frank whispered, enveloping me in his arms and holding me close. I could feel his heart against mine and a wretched memory came back to me. I shoved Frank away and curled up in the corner of my bed. "What'd I do?"

"It's not you." I said shaking my head and rocking back and forth. "I'm scared Frank."

"Don't be scared. I'm not going to touch you if you don't want me to."

"It's not that."

"I love you."

What the fuck? There was no time for this.

"No, you don't." I quickly replied.

Frank was taken aback. He swallowed a lump in his throat and worked his jaw. I could tell I'd hurt him and tried to recover.

"Look, Frank, I'm upset. Okay, I'm still scared over the whole Kaleb thing---"

"KALEB?! KALEB DID THIS TO YOU?!"

Shit!

"Frank, I wasn't supposed to tell you!"

"I'll kill him! I'll fucking kill him!" Frank shouted. I flinched. His eyes watered and he realized he'd scared me then. "Gerard, you can't ignore this."

"But it's better if I did. It'll go away faster. It'll leave my memory if I don't dwell on it, Frank. Give it time. I'll be back to my old self again. Give it time." I assured him. Frank shook his head.

"You need help." he sobbed. "You're not just going to forget it. You don't forget trauma."

He was right. Trauma stayed with you forever. Like my fear of needles. I'd had no problem with them before until I had seen something at the hospital I can never un-see. But that's a story for another day...

"Promise me you'll get help." he took my hand again and pressed it to his chest. I leaned forward on my knees and kissed him softly. He wasn't forceful. He kissed me back gently, afraid I'll break if he used pressure. "Promise me." Frank whispered on my lips.

"I promise you. I promise." I whispered back.

Frank kissed my fingers and then my temple. "Thank you. It'll all be over soon. Trust me."