Detached [boyxboy]

s i x

Noah let his head fall against the toilet seat, it's cold surface providing a great relief to his clammy forehead. His teeth chattered slightly, and his parents talked nervously in the doorway of the bathroom.

It seemed that whenever things started to look up for Noah, his poor health came along to remind him not to get too comfortable. In this case, it was a twisted mix of a vomiting bug and an excruciating migraine.

He was not enjoying the combination.

The physical illness wasn't even the worst part. The vomiting and the migraines he could deal with, it was the depressing thoughts and breakdowns that came with them which really wore him out.

His parents stayed with him for a while, providing water, medicine, and comforting words. They discussed with him whether he should go back to the doctors, but Noah discourage that idea. The doctors had told them to expect these side effects, he argued.

In reality, he just didn't want to spend another minute in a hospital. Six months was enough.

Two hours later and he found himself lying on his bed, nothing but his thoughts to keep him entertained while a damp washcloth was spread across his forehead.

His thoughts, as expected in a time like this, were predominantly negative.

As always with these particular spells of crippling depression, he found himself losing control of his thoughts. Like a drunk, he was far from thinking straight.

In his head, he cursed himself ten times over for being the way he was. Had he not gone through enough trauma over the last six months? Why did his body insist he relive it every couple of weeks, a sick reminder of his self diagnosed abnormality.

His thoughts dig deeper and deeper into the hole of anger and loathing, and he soon found himself with a bigger feeling of resentment consuming his every thought.

He hated this. Hated feeling like he was some unstable pity case. He hated everything, his parents, his life. He hated Casimir, because Casimir wouldn't open up to him. Cas has gotten off scott free, yet wouldn't tell Noah everything that had happened. Hell, wouldn't tell Noah anything that had happened.

What was so secretive that Cas couldn't share? Noah suspected that it had something to do with Casimir's family, and that he himself was possibly linked. Then again, that could just be the paranoia talking. Another side effect, of the medication or the sickness he wasn't certain.

Closing his eyes, Noah tried to calm himself. It was all in vain anyway, as he felt a surge of anger building up inside of him.

Much as he tried to push it down, it surrounded him. Filling his every pore and clouding his every breath. The swell of fury and anxiousness built up, until he found himself in the midst of a full blown creation of a mixed fit of rage and panic attack.

He found himself reaching for the objects nearest to him, without paying any regard to their importance before hurling them at the wall with all his might. Tears streamed down his face, sobs wracking through his body as he broke down in the middle of the room. His parents banged on the locked door, but to no avail. Noah could distantly hear them pleading with him, but the words didn't register in his clouded mind.

He shouted expletives at the wall, screaming with a voice that promptly went hoarse. He cursed his parents, his illness, Casimir. His body shook with the likeness of a seizure, and his fists were so tightly balled that his nails left bloodied indents in the palm of his hand.

Eventually, and Noah didn't know after how long this was, the anger escaped his body and he was left numb. Wave after wave of exhaustion washed over him, and his eyes emptied of tears. He flopped backwards onto his bed, not bothering to get in under the covers. He stayed that way, trembling atop the sheets for as long as he could stay awake, until eventually a restless sleep took over and pulled him under, a blanket of relief for his restless mind.