Therapy - Septiplier

Six

Garvan was born and raised in Ireland with his mother, as his father took off when he was a toddler. They were fair in money and material wealth, but lacked a member of their family and the emotional wound would never heal. He watched his mother's depression grow into a dangerous storm as he grew up, causing a permanent frown upon his own face. He felt the dark clouds looming over him constantly and stopped trying to resist them. He was absolutely miserable, that is, until high school.

A boy with piercing blue eyes caught his attention the first day of freshman year. Every time he would simply pass by the boy, his heart would beat out of his chest and he found the sunshine he had been in search of for a long time. While in class, he'd try to sit in a spot where he could still stare at the boy and just that made life better for Garvan. He was absolutely in love with him and instead of drowning in his own sorrows at home, he'd daydream about the boy. When he entered his sophomore year, his mother gave him a phone, which he used to take pictures of the boy. He learned his name and would say it under his breath whenever he was sad, just to remind himself that beauty exists. His junior year approached and he became even more obsessed.

He started writing the boy's name on his body with markers and followed him after school to find out where he lived. He started waiting outside of his house whenever he was bored, just to catch a glimpse of him. Senior year was when everything fell apart and the boy he fell in love with broke his heart.

Garvan began peeking through the boy's windows and taking pictures of him while he was in his room. One night, he accidentally left the flash on and knew the boy noticed and that he had to take action before he could get caught. He already knew the window to his room was unlocked and he hoisted it up quickly and jumped inside, tackling the boy to the ground and covering his mouth with his hand. The blue eyes he fell in love with shone with fear and Garvan hated to admit that he enjoyed the way he looked at him. He liked the power he had over the smaller boy.

"Hey, Jack," Garvan leaned down towards his ear and whispered. He knew Jack's real name was Sean, but he wanted to use the nickname everyone else did towards him. He was well aware of his body pressing against Jack, his hands had automatically caught his wrists and pinned them above his head and he adjusted so he only needed one hand to pin them down while the other was covering his mouth. "I'm Garvan and I've been watching you for a while."

Jack began squirming beneath him and Garvan smiled, moving his hand away to kiss Jack forcefully. Jack again tried to shove the larger boy away, but it was no use and he was stuck between Garvan and the floor of his bedroom. Fear crept through him, but his attacker's tongue was being shoved down his throat so roughly that he couldn't call for help. This was the first time he met Garvan.

There was another group, but Jack didn't want to go and decided to stay in his room. His head hurt from upsetting memories and his heart was racing from group therapy. He couldn't believe he talked, he didn't think he had it in him anymore. Mark seemed to draw it out of him without meaning to. He was surprised by himself and his own actions and hoped having one-on-one time with Mark would help him.

He sat down in his dark, cold room, but found it comforting to be alone. His head pounded, trying to force him to think about his past that he hated and he attempted to shove them away and pretend it didn't exist. He didn't understand why any of this happened to him of all people.

He was a normal boy, growing up just like every other kid until he came into his life. He didn't start brutal, but the last attack had been the most terrifying event of his life and it was for good reason that he be here. He groaned to himself, trying to bury the thoughts as he fell back onto his bed. He pulled the pillow over his face and wished he could suffocate himself with it, but he knew that wouldn't work and, instead, silently cried. He couldn't live with all this torment and memories.

He hated what happened, he hated him, he hated life. He wished he had simply killed him instead of getting him stuck at the hospital. He could never get the release of death he wanted so desperately while being confined to one floor.

He suddenly thought about Mark's soothing, deep voice and he pulled the pillow off his head, sighing to himself. Something about Mark sparks bliss within Jack and whenever he looked at the therapist, he could tell he was feeling the same thing, but he knew nothing would ever happen, even if he was right. For one, a relationship was the last thing on his mind, and it would be considered unprofessional for Mark and he could lose his job. Jack could never risk someone's entire life like that.

He wanted to be near Mark again as his body began to tremble, thoughts racing places he didn't want them to roam. He wondered if perhaps he should have gone to his next group, maybe he needed them to keep his mind away from the trauma he faced. He couldn't bring himself to be around people that often, though, and knew his silence would never break if he were to be with them for most of the day. He felt frustrated and angry with himself for being so difficult.

Maybe I do need to be here.