Numb (DreamNotFound)

8

TW's:
-Mentions suicide attempt/self harm
-Mentions ambulance/hospital
-Mentions abuse/mistreating

Clay's POV

'We spoke to a boy who told us he got abused by those people and he gets locked in a room with nothing around him. I don't think this is how you treat someone with big mental health problems.'

The police nodded understanding at my therapist.

'Unfortunately that's not a big enough reason to close this building, but we are going to inspect again.'

'But that guy was completely getting crazy, because they locked him up and tie him to his bed when he doesn't listen.'

'We can never know for sure if we can trust patients with these kind of mental health problems.'

'He knows he needs help, he was screaming for help, but he doesn't get help.'

'Do you know in which room he is?'

'That one,' I whispered. I pointed to the small window in the wall.

'We will go to him.'

My therapist nodded and he grabbed my shoulder. 'Come, sit down. Clay, I don't mean to tease you, but you're suddenly really attached to that boy. Does this have a reason?'

'I feel his pain. He wants to go to school and to be outside with friends. I want to go to school and be with friends too. I feel his pain, he self harms to make himself feel better and I did drugs and stuff to make myself feel better.'

'I understand, you have some similarities.'

'I just really feel so bad for him. I don't know how old he is, probably around my age and he's locked in a room. He has no one. How long has he been there?'

'I think a few weeks.'

'I want to help him. I can maybe make a small letter for him everyday and show it? Or just pass by and smile or wave at him?'

'Of course, Clay. I bet he will like to have someone he can sort of communicate with.'

'Is he going to be in trouble if they know he's communicating with me?'

'I don't know, ask him on a letter.'

I felt tears coming up in my eyes and I looked at my feet. I felt so bad, I genuinely did.

'Clay, talk to me. Don't bottle things up.'

'I feel really bad for him.'

'It's going to-.'

We both looked up as we heard sirens coming closer. 'Extra police officers?' I whispered.

My therapist shook his head and he stood up, looking at where the sounds came from.

'An ambulance.'

'Oh, gosh. Is George okay?'

'I don't know, Clay. Sit down, calm down.'

I nodded and sat back down on the bench. The sirens got harder and harder and it seemed to come closer. After a few minutes an ambulance stopped right in front of the building and three men ran outside. They ran into the building and they were gone. I looked at my therapist.

'I'm really scared,' I whispered.

'Whatever is happening, they are in good hands, okay?'

'What if it's George? He looked so hopeless.'

'Clay, don't worry so much. He's in good hands. He will be okay.'

I nodded slowly and looked at the window. I couldn't see anything through it because they put something in front of it, and that's when I realised it.

'It is George,' I yelled.

'How do you know?'

'Because they put something in front of his window.'

'Clay, come. Sit down. He's in good hands.'

'He's too young to die.'

'Clay, they are going to help him, okay?'

'At least I made him smile a little before he died.'

'You made him smile?'

'I uh- I waved at him and showed him a small letter. When I smiled at him, he smiled back at me. It wasn't a genuine laugh, but it made me happy to see him smile anyway.'

My therapist smiled at me as if he knew something I didn't.

'Can I ask you something personal?' he asked.

I nodded and looked up. He smiled and grabbed my shoulder.

'Do you find some boys attractive?'

'Yeah.'

'And girls?'

'Meh.'

'And what do you find attractive when you look at George for example?'

I smiled a little and blushed, looking at my hands. 'His eyes are beautiful and I like his hair. He's way smaller than me, but it's kind of cute, I just-.'

I looked at my therapist with a red face and he was grinning.

'I don't like him like that, I'm straight. I just find him a little attractive.'

'I'm not saying that you're gay, don't worry. I'm just going to say that if you're gay, that would be completely okay.'

'I am not, but thanks. But uh-.'

'Yes?'

'How do you know if you are gay or not. I mean, I'm not gay, but uh- just asking.'

He smiled and lifted his head up. 'You think about boys a lot, you fall in love with boys, you find them more attractive than girls. You maybe even fantasise about kissing a boy and not about kissing a girl.'

I looked at my hands. I thought about George and he was a boy, did that make me gay? I didn't think it did. I only saw him once, I didn't like him. I just pitied him and I just felt bad for him. Sure, he was handsome, but I had found other boys handsome too.

'If I only find boys attractive, does that make me gay?'

'Not immediately, but it's one of the 'signs' of being gay.'

'I don't think I'm gay.'

'That's fine. You will figure it out sooner or later.'

He smiled encouraging and I looked back at my hands. Just a minutes after that, I saw George laying down on a stretcher. The men next to him were running really quickly and I could see a bandage around his wrist.

'Is he going to be okay?' I whispered. 'What did he do?'

'Don't worry about it, Clay.'

'But I do, please. Tell me, what did he do?'

'I think he tried committing suicide again.'

'But how? He has nothing.'

'He also cut himself with something, he probably hid something sharp. Come, Clay. Go inside, we have class.'

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