We're all mad, Dear. (Kellic)

This is how I see me.

Since you guys were fond of my Cheshire cat, I kinda drew something similar for this update. Same pov. Trigger warning.

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"What do you got there, Kell?" I looked up at Vic, who was smiling at me from the other side of his desk.

I lifted the sketch book into his view.

"You seem rather fond of that book, so tell me, do you feel better now that you have it?"  He asked and I nodded, looking down at the written conversation we had yesterday before turning the page.

"If I were to ask you to draw how you feel during each session, would you?"

I shook my fist up and down, before drawing an oval-shape onto the paper.

"Are you doing that now?" He asked and I nodded as I heard the legs of his chair scoot across the tile gently.

Two seconds later he was standing by my side, looking over my shoulder as I began the outline of the body, which was just another big oval-shaped mess.

"Could I watch?" He asked and I just shrugged as my hand moved shakily, while I attempted to shape the body.

"Show me how you feel, Kell ." He said softly, as he sat down in the chair beside me.

I let out a heavy huff as I began to draw each individual hair on the faceless head.

He hummed softly as I pushed down hard, digging the pencil into the paper as I made the face.

I paid attention to the soft rhythm leaving his lips and began to make up a sentence in my head that would best fit it.

'There's a beast in my heart and he won't let you leave alive.'

I smiled before stopping mid draw, and writing that in quotes right beside it before I continued.

Roughly ten minutes of fine lines later, I finished and sat it down on the desk in front of him.

I watched as he ran his long, thick fingers over the sheet softly.

He bit his lip as he read the quote, brushing his fingers over the writing, he began fidget slightly.

"Why do you feel this way ,Kell?"

I pushed air out of my mouth before snatching the sketch book and writing above it in capitals.

'They caught me.'

"Who caught you Kellin?"

'Demons, thoughts.'

He nodded before looking up at me.

"I think that if we try to survive together we can escape them, they're coming for me too."

My eyes popped wide, as I snatched the sketch door from the table and turned the page.

'They go after everyone??!'

He looked up at me and nodded.

"Yes they do, but in different ways. If you let me help you, I can help you escape, but the real question is, will you?"

I looked him in his eyes, which were giving me a straight solemn stare.

The creases worn in the corners of his eyes weren't curved up, and his lips were straight, tighter than a line......

He was telling the truth.

I gulped and nodded softly.

He shook his head. He understood my response.

"Are you willing to let me in?" He asked and I nodded.

It was weird seeing him so....so serious.

In the past four weeks I have grown used to seeing his boyish smile, and feeling his playful presence...but this....it was as if I were sitting next to a different person.

He was possessed, that's it. They took him over! Why wo-'

'Shut the f.uck up!'

"I'll tell you my story, maybe it will warm you up enough for you to tell me yours." He looked at me and gave me the smallest possible smile.

"Growing up, I wasn't one of the most popular but I had a small group of people that I knew." He began.

"We were closer than flies on shit, and hung out everyday, all day until about a day before my 14th birthday. My best friend's brother died. It left him devastated, and I watched him fall apart. I tried and tried to make him better but I couldn't. One day, He stopped coming to school all together. He wouldn't answer my texts or phone calls. He disappeared. My other friends acted normal, but I couldn't. The feeling that I could've helped him ate away at me. I was f.ucking useless." He paused, pushing out a dry chuckle.

"About a few months later, summer rolls around. All of us had these plans of us going swimming, and to concerts and parties galore, but two weeks in and I never gotten one single text. At the time I thought maybe they were busy. Six more weeks roll by and I'm sitting in my room in the attic, alone. My younger brother in the room below me, talking to his best friend Tony, laughing. That summer, I came out as transgender to my parents..." he trailed off and I grabbed his hand.

I could see the hurt in his eyes.

"At first they tried to ignore it, sweep it under the rug. Then they got verbally abusive, calling me a fag, a sinner. That was the straw that broke the camels back. I went into a rampage and ended up cutting my hair off with a sharpener blade." He paused before looking me in the eye.

"My hand slipped and I ended up slicing a pretty decent cut into the side of my wrist. At first I was scared, but then it just clicked. It was something I could control...at least I thought so. Two years pass, the abuse is still strong and I am now friendless. Most of the non visible parts of my body are covered in thick, disgusting purple and silver scars. I'm only sixteen. One day at school the nurse calls me to her office. She's says they are worried about my change in behaviour and they ask if I'm okay. I lied through my teeth and said yes, and she asked me to push up my sleeve, just as precaution."

He sighed softly before pushing my hand off of his and rolling up one of his sleeves.

I gasped and covered my mouth..I made a noise.....

I reached my right hand out and traced my fingers over the still noticible silver lines crisscrossed deep into his wrist.

"She calls my parents, and they come down. She talks them into sending me away. They were never happier and I ended up being locked in a religious mental ward. They fed me pills and literally sat us all in chairs as they recited bible excerpts in attempt to get our souls out of the grips of the devil." He said, shaking his head as I held his arm, brushing his scars with the pad of my thumb. The raised skin was smoother than the rest.

"I was there until I turned eighteen, and I legally signed myself out. Two months later, my grandfather passes. He had a life insurance policy, worth millions that was entitled to me and my younger brother Mike. As soon as I got the money, I moved up here, bought a house, a cheap car, I got my surgery, I put myself through school in hopes to change the system." He stood up and walked to the other side of the desk before sitting down.

I just stared at him as he leaned forward and ripped the drawing from my sketch pad.

He placed it in my folder before sliding it into the drawer and locking it.

"You don't have to verbally tell me what is going through your head, Kellin, but you do have the ability to write it down. Remember that I am here for you, not to make fun of you. Okay?"

I nodded, still staring at him.

"Good, your session is over now, I will see you on Saturday." He said and I stood up, grabbing my sketchbook and quickly making my way towards the door.
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Poor Vic.