The Monster Under the Bed || Kickthestickz

Marlboro

My problem is that I over think. I mean, I like thinking, everyone does. But when an excessive amount of thinking is done the all the good thoughts have passed through your head and there is only the bad ones left. And this is what scares me. From these bad thoughts I can never get away, apart from the minimal amount of things that can take my mind to a different place for a finite number of minutes or hours. But these bad thoughts follow with me for many of my waking hours and nearly all of the ones I spend asleep. I wake up numerous times, at strange and differing hours in the early mornings, shaking and sticky with sweat since these bad thoughts have etched themselves intricately through my dreams. And I hate it. I've tried countless ways to keep the happier thoughts running through my brain but they never seem to stick. So I've become to despise thinking. It's an endless process in which is both meaningless and takes up valuable time. I hate it. I detest it. I don't want it to happen anymore because I've become afraid of my own mind. Phronemophobia. I have a fear of thinking.

Slamming my toothbrush into the holder I trudge back out and sit on the floor in front of both Dan and Phil who are positioned on my bed. Their feet and tangled together as they hang off the edge of my bed. Even though this is the only physical contact they have I can't help but feel sickened and jealous of their relationship. "So," Phil begins, "when are we going to see this Ruben of yours? Calum told me he's from Austria."

I roll my eyes at them and shuffle myself around to I can look at Calum too. Should I tell them that I forgot about the boy? That the person I am supposedly in a relationship with had just slipped out of my mind and had not even popped back in for the last three weeks?

"Ooh! A foreign boy. How exotic." Dan continues, winking at me. I just stare at him with a vacant smile on my face, still shocked at how I had forgotten Ruben's existence for getting on the best part of a month. My heart began to race at the thought of being so cold hearted and selfish for these past weeks. But that's the problem; I am selfish. Everyone is selfish to some extent. It's part of the human anatomy. It's how we're built and I should feel guilty about it but I don't. My mind begins to race and a thin layer of sweat forms on my palms. It's all bad thoughts. It's all bad thoughts. I need something to distract myself. All bad thoughts need a distraction.

Before I got too far into a frenzy, my tatty old converses are dropped in front of me, unlaced and ready to put on. "It's the last Saturday before Christmas, Chris. The whole school is going out on the town. And that includes you. Ruben will be here in two minutes. Get those on your feet and you can wear my hoodie because I made a reservation at that Chinese restaurant in town." I glance up at Calum who already has his back turned and is rummaging through his bag for his grey jumper. He knows it's my favourite and I smile at the gesture before forcing my feet into my shoes, standing up and flattening out ones of Dan's old Muse shirts. Are any of my clothes actually mine currently?

As Calum pulls open the door and we see Ruben on the opposite side my stomach flips and I momentarily freeze. Then his hand runs thought his gelled back hair, still in its 1950's style, and I regain myself. It's the small habits a person has which comfort people, and let them notice how some things will stay the same even if the world around them has flipped upside down. Like how when Pj gets annoyed the little crease at the top of his nose crinkles up and he always fiddles with his ears when he's sleepy.

"Are we ready to go?" Ruben inquires shoving his hands deep within his jacket and taking a couple of steps backwards to allow everyone out of the door. As Calum walks along up front with both Dan and Phil, catching up on each other's lives since they last saw one another I bring up the rear with Ruben securely at my side. "It's nice to see you again. Are you doing okay? I was worrying about you. What was wrong?" I really don't like questions. They pressure people to give answers to others to whom they don't wish to share their information.