Pete's POV:
The next day we took Patrick home. I gave him an option, he could choose between Psych ward or my house. He's just not safe by himself. I know that he think that it doesn't get better but I'm living proof that it does.
He chose to stay with me. We went by his house to get the things he needed. It was a long time since I had been there and the scene I was welcomed in was really depressing.
He has been with me for two months now. We let everyone now he's okay and safe. Not that he is but we didn't want anymore drama.
Patrick has been really distant and quiet. We haven't spoken much. I want to know what happened. I want to know why he's feeling the way he does. But he shut himself from the world. He barely eats. He barely sleeps.
It hurts, it hurts so much.
I layed in my bed, I couldn't sleep. Again. Patrick roaming my mind.
I almost fell alseep when I heard a loud scream. I bolted upwarts and I rushed out of bed and ran to Patricks room.
He was grabbing his sheets really hard. I could see his vains in his neck bulging out. His face was red and tear stained. He was trashing. Like he was under somebody's hold.
'Please, please stop, I beg you' he whimpered.
I ran to him and grabbed his arm softly. Trying to shake him awake. I called his name a couple of times and it worked. He bolted upwarts. His eyes darted open as wide as they could and he was panting. He looked around him and blinked a couple of times before his eyes set on mine.
'I-I- uh, ' he tried to speak but I cut him off.
'Shh, it's okay Tricky, it was just a nightmare'
He layed back in his bed and he looked at me apologetically. I stroked his head and gave him a kiss on his cheeck.
'Goodnight Tricky'
He managed a small smile as I slowly closed the door.