Frank lived his life with one philosophy. To live like a bird, would to be free. He admired birds. Every aspect intrigued him. They were free, they were beautiful, they were a part of life that could never quite be comprehended.

It was frustrating when no one really understood why you were the way you were. Being different didn't necessarily mean there was something wrong with you. There was nothing wrong with Frank, he was just obsessed with the idea of being free. Who wouldn't be though? In some way, everyone strives to be free.

It turned out that trying to be free was a lot harder than anyone would have anticipated. Frank tried different ways, trying to be free. The first way was running away. Being home provided to many boundaries, too many limits he didn't want to have. He was constantly being scolded and told he was wrong. He was wrong and he wasn't perfect, not like his step brother. Running away didn't work too well though. They found him. After that, he turned to partying and drugs. Drugs were supposed to 'free the mind', after all. That didn't work either, his parent's just ended up committing him. Then, when he was finally released from the looney bin, they set him up with a therapist.

That's where he was now. Sitting in therapy. How the hell was this supposed to work? He could talk out his 'problems'? He didn't have problems! All he wanted, was to be free. How hard was that? Except, when he told that to his therapist, the man just stared back at him and asked what 'free' meant. Great, now they were going to think he was suicidal. He wasn't suicidal, he loved his life. Plus, he couldn't kill himself. He still had to figure out how to be free.

It wasn't like his therapist was a dick or anything though. He seemed like a really nice guy, young too. Not that much older than Frank himself. He was also really cute, in a weird way. He had semi long black hair, and a really round face. He was pale too, but really tall. Everyone was really tall to Frank. He had the most beautiful eyes though, and sometimes Frank didn't know what he was saying because he was too lost in them.

"Frank?" he heard. Obviously Dr. Way was trying to get his attention, but he was too busy staring. "Frank are you daydreaming again?" Dr. Way rolled his eyes, which caused Frank to lose focus.

"Huh?" he asked, blinking stupidly at the man.

"I asked how your theory was working." Dr. Way said irritatedly, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

"My theory is marvelous!" Frank gasped. "You know, once I realized the drugs weren't helping, I would have stopped. It's like, my thing. You know? I'm not trying to get myself killed. I'm not crazy, and I can't die. Not yet anyway, I need to figure it out."

"Frank it's impossible to be a bird."

"I don't want to be a bird. I want to be free, like a bird. It's different."

"Right." Dr. Way sighed. "But why? Why do you want to be free?"

"Because everyone's trapped!" Frank stood up and started pacing. "Everyone's so trapped inside their minds. So worried about everything. It's stupid! Why worry? Why? Why can't we just fly? Metaphorically speaking, of course. I know it's impossible to fly. Just, why can't we lose ourselves? Why can't we just be completely lost, yet completely happy at the same time?" Frank threw his hands up, rolling his eyes as Dr. Way took down notes. "People that lose themselves, Dr. Way, they aren't right. They're sad and dead inside, they lost something they needed to be alive. That's not how I want to lose myself. I want to be completely content with myself. I want to know that I'm free, and I'm okay, and that I don't have to worry about anything."

"Well, Frank, I don't know." Dr. Way stood and held out his hand. "But, it was very nice seeing you today. Our hours up, but I'll see you tomorrow." Frank smiled and shook Dr. Ways hand.

"See ya', Dr. Way." And then Frank was out the door, walking out of the building with a skip in his step as his mom nagged him.