Kellic One-Shots

The Only Exception

When you think childhood, normally you'd think of just one word- simple. Childhood is the equivalent to the days where stress was an almost unknown word to our unfamiliar brains; where your mom or dad would tuck you in at night, kissing you on the cheek and turning on your night-light. The days where everything was easier and the worst pain you ever received was a scraped knee on pavement. Childhood was the days that everyone wanted to go back to.

But personally, I'd give anything in this universe to stay the hell away from there.

My perspective of childhood is the complete opposite of what society has implanted into our mostly thick skulls and mind-fucked us into believing. I know the truth, and the truth is that love never lasts and we are all doomed to fade into oblivion within the short period that our lives occupy, and either way, the Earth will continue to rotate, the birds will still sing outside someone's bedroom window, the grass will still grow and die... kind of like us.

I know the true reality that we as humans face involving childhood and all the bullshit that comes with the mistakes that others make during that susceptible time period. And the reason I know of this reality is because I am currently moving closer and closer to my court-ordered destination of the day- my stupid fucking therapy group.

The people in group were basically brainwashed. I made me want to kill them all before they could even blink once and say "Hello Victor!" in those overly happy-go-lucky voices that I hated so much. They obviously knew this, yet I was still greeted with a welcoming that made me want to set my eyes on fire.

The staff was no better. There were a few student volunteers who would encourage each individual, calling them out amongst the rest of the group. They would all smile as one talked, nodding their heads as if they understood- which obviously, they didn't.

I had only spoken when forced to by the beady, judgmental eyes that stared at me as the group leader asked me the same stupid question that had no point to it whatsoever. "How are you doing?" Well, considering I'm still attempting to hide my face with my beanie and oh, yeah, I'm being forced to be involved in a cult-like therapy group, I'm great, thanks for asking!

Back in reality, I sighed as my car was forced to come to a halt by the yellow marker in front of it. I was here.

I practically ran through the dreary and way-too-cold weather that tried to engulf me, and into the building that I dreaded to see more than myself. And let me tell you, that was pure hatred there.

I walked into the mostly empty room fairly early, since I figured out a while ago that walking in late came with severely awkwardly consequences. I took my seat in my normal chair- in the middle towards the left where it seems I had less likely of a chance of having to share my problems with 11 other strangers that I know had learned way too much about.

I felt the sensation I was being watched, which was actually fairly common in this hospital, but it felt.... different. I slowly turned my head left and right inconspicuously, and behind me I was surprised to see a volunteer smiling at me. He was sat atop one of the folding tables that would soon hold our snacks we were allowed to have after each session. He swung his legs back and forth, almost like a toddler would, and kept his gaze fixed on me even after I noticed and gave him a questioning look. I raised my eyebrows and he just smiled bigger, then swung his legs so he practically flew from the table, and began walking over to me. I considered getting up and moving away, slightly frightened and also just very socially impaired. But for some reason, I stayed put. Stage fright, I guess.

"Hi." An unexpectedly sweet and soft voice penetrated the walls of my thoughts and I looked up to see him. Up close, I could see that his hair was somewhat long, like my length, and dark, and I tried not to stare too much into his daring blue eyes. "I'm Kellin. Kellin Quinn." He pushed back his the hair from his face, then stuck his hand out in a friendly gesture. I just stared at it for a second, then decided it was more awkward NOT to accept it, so I shook his hand very quickly without a word, then returned my hand back to resting on my lap. He grinned at this. When I didn't say my name or anything for that matter, he continued.