Where My Demons Hide

After spending three months in the actual hell that is DayCare Rehabilitation Center, I've gotten discharged. I walk outside, feeling a little disoriented, with my mom. The night I got sent here, it turns out I was on an "alarming high amount of marijuana, heroine, and cocaine" To be honest, I'm pretty surprised I'm not dead. Like, even though I was high 99% of the time I was a "druggie", I still knew that that's some heavy stuff. I had to stay for three months because I was considered an alcoholic, and they had to make sure I wasn't addicted anymore. Also, before I got into drugs, I had started cutting myself pretty bad. They wanted to deal with that, too, and since you can't exactly give somebody like me pills, they couldn't hype me up on anti-depressants, and it took the doctors awhile to figure out how to "fix me".

While I was in the hospital, my mom wasted no time making sure I would never see my friends again. She enrolled me for this boarding school for "troubled geniuses" across the Hudson, and my first day of classes begins tomorrow. We drive home to collect my already packed things then drove through the Lincoln Tunnel into Union City. I take out my iPod and blast music, not in the mood to small talk with my mother. After about 15 minutes of driving, my mom pulled up to a prison looking building that I guess was my new school. We went to the front office, where I met the principal, guidance counselor, and received my new schedule, room number, and a map of the school. My mom wanted to come with me to my room to help unpack, but the office secretary said that parents were only allowed to go to the boarding floors on Sundays from 5 to 7 PM, visiting hours. When it was time to say goodbye, my mom pulled me into a teary hug.
"I'll see you next week, sweetie." she managed to choke out. I know I should be sad saying goodbye to my own mother should be hard, but to be honest I don't like her very much. I love her yeah, but shes kind of a bitch, and would probably find joy in watching small children undergo chemotherapy. She finally released me and I grabbed my bags and walked to my room.

The way my new school, Adams, was set up was kind of weird. It looks like a hotel from the outside, the the "lobby" is where the administration works. The first three floors are boys rooms, and the next three afterwards are girls rooms. Then there are 2 floors for classrooms. I'm almost positive this place used to be a hotel. There are elevators, and the cafeteria looks more like a restaurant. I reach my room, 82 on the third floor, and open the door. Inside the room there's one queen size bed, a night stand, a desk, and drawers. There's a bathroom off to the left, and a closet next to it. A good thing about Adams being such a small school is that I won't have to share a room, the student population is barely 600. I sigh and unpack the small amount of clothes I brought with me. Most of my clothes are just band merch with dark skinny jeans, the exact kind of clothes that gets you ignored. Just the way I like it. I hate having attention drawn to myself. I draw my attention back to decorating room. I put up posters for my favorite bands and set my books down on the desk. Exhausted, I collapse into my bed and fall asleep. I wake up to loud knocking on my door. "Time for dinner, everybody go down for dinner!" I groggily get up and groan. What was this, the hospital? I was looking forward to no longer having designated meal times. I tried for a second in the bathroom to fix my messy black hair, but quickly gave up. I was planning on getting it buzzed before the whole drug ordeal happened, because it was such a bother. Now it flopped down messily to my ears. I sighed and dragged myself out of my room, and joined the flow of students flooding down the stairs.

In the cafeteria, I noticed everybody knew each other. I had never gone to a new school, what with living in New York my entire life, and never had the situation of not knowing anyone. I sigh and take my food with my to a corner, where hopefully nobody would try to bother me. I pulled out A Catcher in the Rye and read some before I heard a voice ask, "Uh, hey, can I sit here?" I looked up to see a short kid with a lip ring looking awkward in front of me. "Um, yeah, sure I guess" I mumbled. He smiled, and I felt butterflies. Really? I had known the guy for a matter of two seconds and I was already fawning over him. I mentally kicked myself. I closed my book because I didn't want to seem rude and asked, "So whats your name?"
"Frank" He replied. I smiled. "Gerard." He nodded and dug into his food. I opened my book and angled it so I could get a good look at him without getting caught staring. He had a fringe that went down to his chin, and curled perfectly at the end. He had dark hazel eyes that he always kept downcast. All in all he was really cute. I rolled my eyes at myself. I was such a girl sometimes. "So, um, I just got here today, do you think you could help me find my way around?" I looked up to see Frank looking at me with hopeful eyes. So, he was new, too. That explains why he wanted to sit with some weird loner kid in a dark corner. I swallowed my food and said "I just got here, too. Like, I just got here today. I don't think I can be of much help, but we can see if we have some classes together. Or, um maybe we have the same teachers but in different class periods or maybe we have classes right next to each other, you know?" God, I had no idea had to talk to this kid. I was just rambling at this point. I made myself shut up. "Whats your schedule?" He asked. He was smiling. Great, I got him to laugh at me. "Uh, I don't really know it. I think I have Pre-Calc first and have lunch fourth." His face lit up. "Me too!" He exclaimed. Ugh, this kid was so cute, I wanted to kiss him so bad. I got up to throw away my trash. "I have my schedule in my room, so you can just stop by then and we can see what other classes we've got together then, okay?" Before he could say anything I pulled out the Sharpie I always carried in my pocket and wrote my room number on his hand. I got up quickly and left the cafeteria.

~2 hours later~

I was randomly doodling across a piece of paper. Giving Frank my room number was a bad idea. He probably thought I was a freak, running away from him like that. I sighed and turned up the Iron Maiden on my iPod. I flipped to a new page in my sketchbook and started drawing random characters from Watchmen, letting myself get lost in the drawing. When I finished, I got up and went to take a shower. I let the shampoo wash the grease out of my hair and I sang a little. I got out from the warm rain and wrapped a towel around my waist. I hear a knock on my door. Oh god, that had to be Frank. Perfect timing. "Just a second!" I called and hurriedly pulled on a pair of pajama pants. I opened the door, and saw Frank's face redden at my bare chest. "If you're, uh, um, a-about to go to bed I can just you know, leave, I came really late anyways, and um-" I laughed and shook my head. He was adorable. "Dude, you're fine. Come on in." He shuffled in, and looked around my room. "That Misfits poster is awesome, where'd you get it?" He look really excited. "Oh, I kinda drew that." I said sheepishly. His eyes widened even more, if that was even possible. "You're insanely talented".
"Oh, um thanks" I said. I barely got compliments on my drawings because everybody was kind of used to them already. Frank nodded "Yeah, my ex was pretty good at drawing. But he was nowhere near as good as you." My ears perked up. He? HE????? Oh my god, I thought. This kid likes dudes. I have a chance. My heart is speeding up. "Ohh an ex, huh? What happened with him?" I hoped Frank wouldn't hear the curiosity in my voice. Frank waved in the air, waving this ex away. "He got me into some bad stuff, and I couldn't act myself around him, blah blah blah."
"Bad stuff? Is that what got you in here?" I asked, my curiosity obvious now. "Not like you have to answer that." I said hurriedly. Frank looked down. "Oh, um, not really. I got in here cause I tried to kill myself." He said quietly. "Oh, Frankie." I shocked myself with the nickname, but I couldn't help it. How could somebody as great as him want to die? I pulled him into a tight hug, without really thinking about it. "I've been there, but I never expected..." I trailed off. I didn't know how to comfort him, but the hug seemed to be enough. He buried his head in my shoulder and took a deep breath. I pulled away from the hug reluctantly and sat on my bed, patting the spot beside me. "So I draw, what do you do?" I asked. "Well, um, I play some guitar." He said. I smiled. "You should play me a song sometime." Frank nodded "Of course." We were silent for a second. Frank got up. "Well, I should go. Curfew's in like, 15 minutes." "Oh, yeah. Um, bye I guess." Frank grinned. "What, no goodbye kiss?" I felt myself go red "U-um... I, um.." Frank was laughing. "Dude, I'm totally kidding. Just cause I'm gay doesn't mean I hit on anyone with a dick. I'll see you later." He walked out with that. I sighed and hit my head on the wall. Why was I so awkward?! I sighed and climbed into bed. That night I dreamed of lip rings and hazel eyes. I've never slept so soundly.