I'll Be Your Gerard If You'll Be My Frank

Recovery

{Gerard's POV}

She said the words but I didn't hear them.

I didn't want to.

I closed my eyes and gripped my Mom's hand tight.

She squeezed back.

This wasn't happening.

I didn't like this at all.

It wasn't fair.

"Gerard?"

I opened my eyes.

"Did you hear me?" Doctor Murphy asked.

I shook my head slightly.

I didn't want her to say it again but I knew I had to take it in properly.

"I know this is hard to accept but you need to understand this."

My Mom was still crying.

I didn't understand where all the tears came from.

She had cried enough to supply a whole damn lake.

"I think it would be best for you to spend some time in the local psychiatric ward, Gerard."

My breath caught in my throat.

I slowly shook my head until it turned into full on fast denial.

"No! No! I'm not going! You can't make me!! I WON'T GO!!"

I stood up and backed up against the wall.

"Gerard, please," My Mom sobbed, "We want you to get better."

"I'M NOT CRAZY!!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.

"Of course you're not crazy," Doctor Murphy said calmly from behind her desk, "We just want to know what's going on inside your head. We need to find out how we can help you."

I couldn't believe this!

"Help me?!" My breathing sped up, "You can't help me!!"

"Gerard, please calm down," Doctor Murphy stood up, "Let's talk not shout."

My breathing was at high speed now.

"Gerard, stop hyperventilating. Everything will be fine," My Mom stood up as well now.

I slowly slid down the wall onto the floor and put my head between my legs.

All this breathing was making me feel faint again.

I guess it was only a matter of time before I was classified as "mentally unfit" or however the hell you wanted to put it.

I felt a hand on my arm.

I looked up.

It was my Mom.

She sat down next to me and put her arm around me.

"It'll all be fine," She whispered, "We just want to help you."

My breathing had slowed down now but I was full on sobbing.

"I don't want to be helped!" I said between gasps.

"Why not?" Doctor Murphy loomed over us.

"I worked so hard!" I cried, "I was doing so well!"

Doctor Murphy shared a look with my Mom.

The look probably meant, "Yep. He's a nutter. We'd better lock him away fast."

Doctor Murphy knelt down in front of us.

"The first step in the road to recovery is knowing you want to recover... Are you sure you don't want to recover, Gerard?"