Never Crossed My Mind (boyxboy)

Chapter Five

The flame flickered to life, striking the head of my cigarette.

I inhaled, breathing out through my nose. The smoke drifted across the room in gray wisps. Mason sat across from me, peering at me curiously. I stared back at him with dull eyes and a bored expression.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." I grumbled dryly.

Mason rolled his eyes at me, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "What crawled up your ass and died, grumpy? You seemed fine with me last night."

I sat back in the chair, flicking ashes from my cigarette to the floor. I couldn't help but feel down, I just couldn't. Sometimes I was hyper and happy, and sometimes I just fell into periods of depression and just wanted to sleep.

The hypomania episodes tend to happen more often, but I can become really annoying and irritating to others if it got too bad, and if they snap, it tends to bring me down a few notches, sometimes a few too many.

And then there were the depression episodes, where all-in-all, I really just felt helpless and tired.

"Hellooo?"

I snapped back into reality to find a worried Mason waving his hand in front of my face.

"Dude, seriously, are you okay?" he wondered.

I nodded curtly at him, curling up in the TV room chair. Mason just watched with an odd expression as I rested my head on the arm of the chair. My eyes drifted close, my mind becoming fuzzy.

I heard Mason say my name, once, twice.

And then I heard nothing at all.

...

"Sam?"

I opened my eyes groggily, coming face to face with Mason's worried face. I sat up, rubbing at my eyes and yawning. I looked around; we were still in the TV room, but now, several patients were staring at us.

"Down again, Sam?" Shirley, an old woman with curly gray hair and a soft face asked. I was almost positive that she had Tourettes Syndrome, and some of her tics had been disrupting her life to the point where she admitted herself to a mental hospital for help.

I nodded my head, frowning, still exhausted.

Mason gave me a 'wtf' look. "Dude, what the hell?"

"Sorry," I grumbled.

"When he has a depressive episode, he's always tired. Don't be annoyed, sometimes he just falls asleep when he's like this. He doesn't mean to," Shirley told him lightly.

"Thanks, Shirley." I gave her a soft smile. You just couldn't help but fall in love with the woman, even during her outbursts, especially when she was always apologizing even though it wasn't her fault.

"So, honey," she said, striking a conversation. "Where'd you go?"

I rested my head on my hand. "The basement."

Her baby blue eyes widened, her mouth forming a shocked 'o'. "I heard it's like a hell down there."

I nodded shortly, laying my head back down onto the chair arm. "It is; there's blood and rats and a bunch of other creepy shit. It scared the hell outta me. It's worse than Jesse's mind."

She patted my arm, giving me a sympathetic smile. "We've all been there, sweetie. We're all screwed up, and there's nothing we can do."

"-shit!" she suddenly exclaimed. A light blush touched her cheeks. "Sorry," she murmured.

I brushed it off, already slipping back into unconsciousness. Before I fell asleep, her words repeatedly ran through my mind.

"We're all screwed up, and there's nothing we can do."