Gregor was sitting in a very small, uncomfortable chair, which happened to also be in a small, uncomfortable room. Not as small as Gregors attic/storage room/ bedroom, but still small. The floors were a rich mahogany, and the walls were a light grey/purple color.

There was a bookshelf located directly behind Gregor, containing things like, 'Cures For The Mind,' and, 'The Complete Handbook of Depression.' To the left of Gregor was the door, and right in front of Gregor was a desk with a man at it. The man happened to be Gregors therapist, actually.

Mid thirties, early forties, the man had a clean shaven beard and short, blonde hair. He was wearing jeans, and a t-shirt on that said, 'Its better to get wet than to get sweat.' Gregor had no idea what it meant, of course, but it was interesting (if that) non the less.

"So, Gregor, is it?" The man finally said. Gregor brought his thoughts back into the real world for a moment, and nodded. "Ah good, I see. Well Gregor, it is nice to meet you! My name is Christopher Linkhart, but you can just call me Chris. Everybody does." Chris introduced himself. He then held out his hand in a fist, and at first Gregor thought that he was going to punch him. But then he realized that Chris was just offering a fist-bump, so Gregor just weakly tapped it. When he did though, the weirdest thing happened.
"Seriously?"

"Pardon?" Gregor asked, showing no signs of emotion, unless befuddlement counted. After his incident at school, and then at home, Gregor was infuriated with himself. Not for nearly killing some kids, and thinking about doing it to his family. No, Gregor was mad because his mask had cracked. All in one day, Gregor had laughed, smiled, laughed, smiled, and laughed some more. He had never done any of that over the course of almost four years! The shame.
Speaking of Gregors home incident, after his laughing at his mothers obvious discomfort, his mother had simply blocked Gregor out of her life. She would refuse to speak with him, unless necessary, wouldn't look at him, and wouldn't do anything for him. Not that this changed anything. Gregor had ignored his mother for a very long time, and his mom didn't do much for him anyway. She was just too busy working. But still, it was sad. In a sense.

"Dude. You okay? You're kinda zoning out on me here." Chris said. Gregor snapped back to reality.

"What are you talking about?" Gregor questioned again, as dreary as the first time.

"Oh my god! Bruh." Chris responded. Okay, this was getting annoying.

"Please stop being confusing and weird and tell me what you're talking about." Gregor said, bored and perplexed.

"Oh. Well at least you have manners!" Chris said. "Well I trying to detect signs of emotion, and there were none. Does that help?"

"Not really."

"Ah well. You see, Gregor, I was testing you, in the sense that you could answer or fist-bump me with any emotion. And I detected none. You are clearly very, very sad." Chris matter-of-factly told Gregor, finally explaining things. Gregor was silent at this. He wasn't stunned or anything, anybody could see that Gregor was very unhappy with his life. Gregor just didn't really know what to say to this stranger. When his parents were bringing Gregor to the lesson, he sort of just sulked in the back of the car, expecting some old codger to ask him random questions. Gregor could see now, though, that this would be anything but that.

"Okay then," Gregor said, after a moments hesitation. "And what are you going to do this with this information."

"Ohhhh no. Not me.'' Chris said. Okay, maybe this guy needed a therapist.

"Excuse me?"

'You're excused!" Chris said, a huge grin on his face. Gregor stared. "That was a joke." Chris spoke after a few seconds. The smile turned to that of small frown. Gregor stared. "Laugh." He demanded. Gregor still stared. "Okay man, if this is gonna work you're gonna have to at least chuckle at my jokes." Chris said. Gregor gave a weak, depressing chuckle. "Oh my god. You are so boring! Okay, I'll be straight with you now. Like I said before, I tried to detect signs of emotion, and there were none! So now, you and I, not me, but both of us, will work hard to fix you. But before that happens, you have to open up to me. So, every time you come here, I will tell you story, and then you will tell me one. And remember, these stories have to be very emotional, personal, and private. Got it?"

"Okay, but uh . . . I don't exactly feel comfortable revealing that kind of information to a stranger."

"Relax, man! I'm not some psycho." Chris said.

"Wouldn't be too sure of that." Gregor mumbled.

"What was that."

"Oh!" Gregor perked up. "I said 'Sure Thing!'"

Chris was silent for a moment. "Okay then. Why don't you go first!" Gregor was silent. "Alright. I'll go." Chris took a deep breath. "When I was younger, I was in love with a girl. Let's call her Sarah!"

"I know a girl named Sarah."

"Oh, cool! Well, anyway, we met in preparatory,school, and formed an instant bond. But I only thought of her as friend. One day though, we were hiking, and I tripped and fell into a gorge, breaking my leg in the process. Sarah dived in after me, nearly breaking her foot in the process. She formed a makeshift splint for my leg — she was applying for medical school, so I guess that's how she knew how to make it — and legit dragged me out of the mini-canyon, and got me home all within 4 hours. And that's how I came to love her.

Gregor nodded, taking this all in, knowing that he would offend Chris if he said nothing. And to be honest, he wanted to say something! Secretly, Gregor loved telling stories, but the thing was, all his stories were about the Underland, and he could never explain that to any random guy. Gregor decided to tell a half-truth.

"Ok. I too, was in love when I was younger. My father, baby sister and I were taking a vacation, but we accidentally got on the wrong train. It took us to a really low, shady place. Filled with hate, betrayal, murderers, and crime. We stayed at an almost castle-like hotel, and it was there that I met her. Even though I was only twelve, I knew what it was immediately.

"What was it?" Chris asked, completely engrossed.

"Pure hatred." Gregor said straight-faced.

"What!" Chris groaned. "I thought you said you loved her.

"I did. But I hated her at first." Gregor said, no expression. "The hate blossomed into love."

"Well what happened next? Please, I gotta know. I'm a total romantic! I'm a sucker for it!" Chris pleaded.

"Next time." Gregor said. "Well, as fun as this was, I have to leave now."

"But it's only been like forty minutes. We're only like half way through with the lesson. Don't you want to get to know this beautiful mug better?" Chris said.

Gregor moaned. "Not necessarily. Good day, Chris." With that, Gregor stood up, and left Chris to his own devices.

After Gregor had exited the room, he had to roughly a half hour before his parents arrived to pick him up. Which was fine with Gregor, by the way. It just left him to his thoughts, and, while they can be the most terrible thing in the world, they can also be the best. Luckily, Gregor didn't have any of his nightmare fantasies, so he could just relax. He hung around the lobby, which contained a vending machine, a row of chairs, a sofa, a front desk, and very little people. Gregor could see out of the corner of his eye the pimply, teenage clerk playing on his ipad-mini. He was gonna get fired. Gregor fell back into the surprisingly comfortable sofa, and shut his eyes. It was actually quite relaxing. Peaceful, even. At least, until he opened, and then locked, eyes with the very person he had almost killed.

And it wasn't Lucas.

"Corey?" Gregor questioned. He stood up, and started to walk towards him, but then Corey started to back away. His friend had a medical wrap around his head, and a bloody bandage on his nose. He looked quite frightened.

"Ge-get away from m-me." Corey stuttered, as he always did when nervous.

"Corey, I'm sorry I hurt you, I really am. But -" Gregor started to monotonically state, but was cut off.

"No! No, I-I don't-t wan-t-to he-hear it." He sputtered. "Ju-just, leave me a-alo-alone. Freak!" Corey rushed out the doors, and ran across the street. He made a left, went behind a building, and then Gregor couldn't see him anymore. The clerk had looked up for a moment, but had then shrugged and went back to his game.

"Well that's no good." Gregor thought to himself. He contemplated going after Corey, but then decided to not. If Corey didn't want to be near Gregor, then he wasn't going to complain! Corey was nice, and even with his weird quirks Gregor did honestly like him! But no matter what, Gregor would always, always, pick solitude, than outwardness. Although personally, Gregor thought Corey was overreacting. Lucas, sure! He brought the pain hard. But with Corey, all he did was deal a heavy-duty punch to the face! The floor honestly did the most damage when Corey fell.

Oh well. Gregor went back to his chair and sunk into it, gracefully falling into a peaceful slumber . . . that was immediately interrupted by a nightmare.

Gregor was back in New York, and was walking through Central Park. A blizzard had recently hit, so not many people were out. The trees had a beautiful layer of white fluff on their leaves, and you could hear the birds' harmonic singing. The whole scene was absolutely stunning. Beautiful. Peaceful. Free. Gregor breathed a big breath, and hid his smile behind his scarf. While current-day Gregor would hate smiling, this new, interesting dream Gregor didn't seem to mind. In fact, this Dream Gregor seemed to have a whole aura of excitement, giddiness, grit, happiness, you name it! Coming off of him. Just then, a rustling could be heard in a nearby shrub.

Suddenly Dream-Gregor was gone, and Real-Gregor was in control. Gregor tensed. After such a history with the Underland, the slightest thing could make him ready for combat. The rustling grew louder, and Boots crawled out! Little baby Boots, only a few years old.

"Aw, hey baby." Gregor cooed. No matter what happened, Gregor would always have a soft spot in his heart for Boots. "How'd you get all the way out here?" At first Boots just giggled, but then she started speaking.

"You." She said in a terrifying voice. The same voice as Rager-Gregor, in fact! The voice was so intense, it was all Gregor could hear, could focus on! It cut through his mind, like a hot knife through butter. "You left me here. You abandoned me, to rot!" Boots, and Rager-Gregor, said the final word with bitter resentment.

"Gah!...this is weird." Gregor exclaimed.

"You hated me, and you wanted to be rid of me, so you threw me out. Like garbage!" It spat.

"No, Boots. I swear! I did no such thing! I would never leave you!" Gregor shoved the words out of his mouth.

"Maybe. Maybe you wouldn't leave me" Boots/Rager-Gregor said. "But you would kill me."

"Kill? Never!"

"Never, you say? Think again." Boots/Rager-Gregor grew wet and sticky. Gregor looked down and saw a huge mass of red, leaking from Boots/Rager-Gregor's shirt. His hand had stuck a knife in her throat.

"What!? No! NO!" Gregor screamed. "I can't!"

"You have." Boots/Rager-Gregor gargled, blood trickling down its chin. "You're a killer, and that's all.

Gregor was in the passenger seat of his Uncle's Pickup Truck, arms crossed. When he woke up from his horrifying slumber, he checked his phone to see that his father had left him a message, saying that he had to take Lizzie to the doctor, and that his Uncle Mike was going to pick him up. About thirty minutes later, he saw his uncle's truck pull into the parking lot. Gregor rose from his chair, stretched, and walked out. Gregor had gotten into the car, said a brief "Hello" to his uncle, and then what proceded was an awkward silence.

There was still about ten minutes until arrival at Gregor's home, when his uncle spoke.

"So . . . you get angry, huh." His Uncle said awkwardly. "You're like the hulk!" Uncle Mike tried making a joke, but it just didn't work.

"I guess." Gregor kind of muttered.

"Yeah..." Uncle Mike said.

Silence.

More Silence.

"How was the lesson?" Uncle Mike asked.

"It was all right."

"Ok. How was your therapist? Some old guy boring you to death?" Uncle Mike smiled. Gregor did not.

"Actually it was just some thirty-forty year old guy in a t-shirt, telling stories."

"Oh. Interesting. Boy do I have some stories." Uncle Mike said.

"Oh there's really no need for you to tell me th—" Uncle Mike cut Gregor off.

"When I was in collage," Uncle Mike started, "My friend Bill and I once went into a bar. We kept on drinking and drinking, and eventually I had to use the lou. I asked Bill if had to go, but he just said 'Nah man. I'm good!' So I went to the restroom. When I came back, wanna know the first thing he said to me?"

"Not rea—"

"He said, 'Mike I gotta use the toilet. Come with me.' Unbelievable. I told him, 'No, you gotta go on your own.' He didn't want to be by himself, for whatever reason is unbeknownst to me, so he just sat there. Until he started unzipping his pants. Now, my first reaction was along the lines of, "HOLY SHI—"

"Uncle Mike. The language?" Gregor said.

"Oh, right. Sorry." He apologized. "Anyway, my second reaction was much worse, when he started peeing under the counter! I laughed so hard! . . . oh boy . . ." He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, chuckling. We reached the barn. I immediately got out and walked to the front door. Right before I shut the door though, my Uncle spoke up again.

"Do you know why I told you that specific story, Greg?" Nobody ever called him Greg.

"No."

"I just wanted you to know. It's okay to laugh. It's okay to laugh at the crazy things in life. The bad, naughty things. The sad things. The scary things. Laughing is good, and I - I . . . I wish that you would more." He said, solemnly.

Gregor thought about this for a moment. "Okay." He said after a moments hesitation. "Yeah, alright . . . I'll, I'll try."

And he shut the door.

Dang. It's been a while since I've written anything. I've redone this chapter so many times I've lost count. A few times it didn't save, a few times I just wasn't happy with the way I portrayed the characters, but hey, whatever! By the way, if you're wondering why I said that Gregor got on the wrong train, I was going to say airplane, but I didn't think it was realistic that somebody would board the wrong plane. Anyway, sorry for the long pause. I wasn't feeling necessarily inspired. But I'm back, and it's summer! Woo-Woo!...I regret saying that already. Well, I'll be trying my best to post chapters, but granted I'm leaving for Nantucket tomorrow soooo...I'm not sure how that'll go. Well, IM NOT DEAD, so I'll be writing and writing! And also I know Gregor and Chris' stories were pretty short, and some parts of this chapter seemed a little fast-paced, but it's like 10:00 PM so...

Rotting Hood, Out!