Wednesday, late afternoon

     Frey couldn't say his past days had been good. They weren't bad either, but he found himself struggling to condemn his bad behaviour like he would do whenever he felt fine.

He caught himself coming up with excuses, and pretending as if he wasn't that bad of a guy most of the time. In reality, he knew he was treating people bad, but in his mind, he couldn't muster a lack of care to give.

He simply didn't give a fuck, while hating himself for not giving a fuck. It was a weird feeling to Frey, and he knew it was a sign his mind was deteriorating again. As always, after a period full of energy, doing fun things and lots of laughter with friends, he already knew it would end, and he would feel tired and depressed for a while.

Getting out of bed was becoming increasingly harder each day, and today he even overslept for his first hour. His mother scowled at him for it and told him to stop being so lazy and actually do something with his life.

He replied to her he wasn't feeling well, but she sent him of to school anyway.

Frey didn't feel like going, but he knew he would get in trouble if he skipped again, so he forced himself to listen and go; thinking Arun sure would've be able to calm him down a bit.

Which was a big fat mistake because Arun just told him to think about why he was feeling bad.

Frey felt like Arun tried to imply he was feeling guilty over Michelle—she was after all one of those typical American sweethearts that everybody seemed to love. But Frey never felt guilty.

He felt sorry for them, yes. Not because of what he did with them, but because they would stoop to a low level of admiring him even after he sent them home in the middle of the night, to not call or text afterwards.

His state only got worse when he fell asleep halfway through Biology, and he got detention because he kept dozing off after a last warning.

It messed up his mother's schedule, and the fact he was supposed to pick up Victor and Rudy on his way home.

Now she had to go pick them up and take them to the story to buy groceries, while Frey was rotting away in detention, feeling bored, tired and unfocused.

Frey didn't feel like seeing his mother right now, but he know he needed to talk to her, again.

He tried to talk to her about his mental state more often, but she kept replying by telling him not to whine or be ungrateful. He had nothing to complain about with his parents.

And he knew, besides his mother's controlling side, there really was little to complain about.

Then why did he feel like his life sucked from time to time?

Frey sighed tiredly, heading downstairs as soon as he heard the front door click shut. Halfway down the stairs, Victor and Rudy came running by all hyper and enthusiastic, and Frey noticed they both candy in their hands.

Great, Frey thought, feed hyperactive children even more sugar.

That will be interesting when dinner is served.

He shrugged it off, headed further down the steps and searched for his mother, finding her in the kitchen, where she was unpacking groceries.

"Mom?" He cocked his head a bit, slumping down on a barstool while waiting for her to acknowledge his presence.

She ignored him, and while she moved around the kitchen to put stuff in the right spots, Frey noticed her brows were furrowed, and she seemed a bit angry.

"Mom, I'm sorry for getting in detention..."

A huff was the only response he got from her, and his stomach churned a bit. He hated it when she gave him the angry silent treatment, especially when he wanted to pour out his heart, or more so, his mind.

"Mom, I'm really sorry, but I was just so tired, and I couldn't keep my eyes open..."

"Then maybe you should stop ignoring me when I tell you to go to bed in the evening! Maybe then you wouldn't oversleep or fall asleep in class!" She swiftly swirled around on her heels, sending him a look of both disappointment and annoyance.

"Mom, I was in bed at nine last night." Frey rolled his eyes, leaning his head on the counter without breaking eye-contact. "I slept almost right away..."

"Too much sleep isn't healthy either. If you would just keep to your schedule, you'd be fine."

"I highly doubt my overbooked and shitty schedule will assure me being fine." Frey slammed his head on the counter, now turning to stare down to the floor while his forehead still leaned on the counter.

"Language, Frey."

He pulled up his head to look at her. "Mom, I just feel really shitty and so... tired. Exhausted even."

"Are you starting that again?" She sighed tiredly. "Honey, there's nothing wrong. You're just a teenagers and being tired is part of life."

"This isn't normal, mom!" Frey cried out in annoyance because again she wouldn't listen to him. "Can't I just go to the doctor to see why I have these mood swings?"

"It's called puberty, Frey." His mother shook her head, and Frey groaned, hating that response. She never listened, while Frey was sure his mood swings weren't exactly what you would call normal, or part of puberty.

"It's not just puberty..." Frey started a round of protest, but got cut of when Victor ran into the kitchen and straight towards their mother.

"Mom! Rudy stole my book and he won't give it back."

"Because I had it first!" Rudy's angry voice carried into the kitchen, right before he stomped in himself. "He stole it from me and now he's being a baby..."

"Rudy, Vic, stop it. Give me the book." Their mother stretched out her arm to take the book away from Rudy. "You both aren't supposed to be reading right now..."

"It's for school, mom!" Victor yanked her arm, wanting the book back. "I need it for homework."

"I do too!" Rudy started pulling her other arm, and mom sighed tiredly. "I had it first, mom!"

"Frey, can you take Victor to the library to rent another copy?" His mother tiredly asked him, sending him a pleading look while holding up the book to prevent either of the twins to grab it.

"Depends, mom. Are you going to listen to me?"

"Listen to what, honey?" His mother frowned a bit confused.

"About me feeling shit as fuck..."

"Language!"

"and wanting to go to a doctor..." Frey continued despite his cursing, causing Victor and Rudy to snigger.

"Frey, you don't need a doctor, you just need to stop complaining about everything..."

"Ugh! Forget it! I'm leaving."

"Wait, you need to take Vic to the lib..."

"What I need, is to get the hell away from you." He bit towards her with an angry voice, angry eyes and the feeling he was about to blow up in her face. He really needed to get away from her for now.

     Frey took his bike and drove to his father's apartment downtown, wanting to escape his annoying siblings and his blind and deaf mother.

How could she continuously complain about his behaviour, yet never be willing to listen to him whenever he wanted to open up about said behaviour?

Frey couldn't understand why she wouldn't listen, since she was the controlling kind that rather knew everything that was going on in their minds than having them shut her out.

She did most of the time put in effort to listen to Julia, she always listened to Rudy and Victor; not that they had a lot of problems.

They were twelve, what serious problems could they have?

The only thing they fuzzed over every so often, was how stupid they thought people were. They were two smart little kids and Frey always found it amusing whenever they argued, and mom tried to intervein.

She wasn't smart enough to match their level of knowledge, and they all knew it was only going to get worse once they would head on to highschool and get into Durant High.

Frey shuddered at the thought of them outsmarting all of them every so often. It was simply annoying. But since they did somewhat look up to him as their bigger brother, he wasn't their victim a lot.

They generally left him alone, and only came to him for help whenever they got bullied or in a fight.

And Victor, last month, came to him to ask about a girl and how to get her to like him.

Frey—having a good month—had told Victor he wasn't the guy to talk to when it came to getting a girl to actually like him. He had sent Victor to their father, not wanting to ruin an innocent child like Victor with his own ways of treating girls.

Frey sighed as soon as he arrived, ditching his bike in the shed in front of the apartment building, letting himself in by using his keys instead of warning his father by ringing a bell.

It was most likely his father was either still in bed, or again in bed to take a nap before heading over to the club later tonight.

But he was wrong, and when he entered the apartment and slammed the door, his father simply peeked his head around the doorpost of the kitchen with a frown.

"What's with the slamming doors?"

"Mom is." Frey seethed under his breath, sinking in the couch before covering his face. "She always wants to know everything, but not whenever I feel like talking."

"You wanted to talk to your mother? That's new." His father chuckled and disappeared back into the kitchen, returning with two coffees and a box of cookies. Frey rather wanted a beer, but his father wouldn't agree to him drinking beer in the middle of the day.

"I try talking more often. She just won't listen." Frey whined, grabbing the coffee and a cookie, still feeling highly annoyed.

"Talk to me instead. You're here now anyway."

"You probably won't listen anyway." Frey shrugged, sinking back into the couch with a tired sigh.

"I'm here, right?" His dad leaned towards him, putting a comforting hand on his knee. "When have I ever not listened?"

"All the times Jules and I asked you if we couldn't just come and live with you."

"I listened, but I also explained why your mother and I both think it's better to live with her."

"I hate it there."

"What's bothering you, Frey?" His father switched back the subjects, ignoring his plead to save him from his mother. But that's not why he went here in the first place, was it?

"I just..." Frey took a deep breath and tried to come up with the words to explain. "Have you ever felt like everything in your life was perfectly fine, yet you hated your life?"

"I reckon that's how you feel?"

"I have nothing to complain, but I don't feelhappy."

"And how long has that been going on? Whenever I see you, you look cheerful and as if you're enjoying life."

"I was, last week." Frey shrugged a bit. "Now I'm not."

"Did something happen?"

"No, which is why I'm worried about my... mental health?" He sent his father a questioning look, not knowing if 'mental health' were the right words to describe what he worried about. "I'm worried because I should feel happy, and sometimes I do, but sometimes I don't."

"What can I do, and what can your mother do, to help you?"

"I want to see a doctor, but mom says it's just puberty and repeatedly told me to stop whining about everything. Am I whining, dad?"

His dad seemed to overthink his words for a while, sipping from his coffee while staring at Frey.

"I don't think whining is the right word. I think, if you're struggling with those feelings, and you think you need to see a doctor, we should see a doctor."

"So, will you go with me?"

"Of course I'll go with you. But I do want your mother to know I'm taking you. I won't go behind her back."

"She'll refuse, dad!" Frey cried out, groaning right afterwards at the thought of his father telling his mother he would take Frey to a doctor. The few times their father had interfered and ignored their mother's opinion, she went ballistic, started crying, and acting like a victim because one of them had gone to their father instead of her. She would always instantly jump to conclusions and think they'd loved their father more than they loved her.

Frey hated that part about her even more than he hated to part of her that made him feel unheard, ignored, brushed off as a whiny teenager.

But at least he had his dad on his side, and him informing their mother was merely a formality.

"I will take you to a doctor nonetheless, Frey. I just want her to know."

Wordcount: 2195

Total: 4433