Dear Journal,

It has been two months since my release from the hospital. To my better sake, I was placed into a mental institute, "Sunny Day Institute," they called it. I have

been here for about six weeks. Just recently I was given you to write down my thoughts and feelings, you know, to get them out. I don't see how this is going to

help, I've written songs before stating what I feel inside, and yet, nothing. I don't feel happy. I don't feel uplifting, like a large mass of weight was removed from

my shoulders. Instead...I'm just...as I always am I guess. Dead. Empty. Sort of like some vacuum accumulated itself within my soul and sucked out any sense of

any positive feelings. Treatment hasn't seem to touched yet...I still have the urges.

Every time I look around the living room area here, I see people who set themselves higher than I have placed myself. They seem fine. Perfectly fine. Only here

due to their own selfishness and attention-craving actions- its pathetic. Maybe that's why they're here. They feel so pathetic within their bodies...like me. Except... I

have a real problem...visual, mental, physical...problems...I want to cut up my skin...Burn myself...Allow myself to bleed out onto the floor...Just, end it all... But, I

know I can't. I have my love waiting for me outside these clear doors that self say 'we are crazy, we are nuts, we want to kill ourselves, we are fucked.' That's what

everyone is here for from my understanding...even my roommate, Darren.

Darren, he's interesting. Interesting as he is a true mystery. He wakes up before I do, and just walk out of our room without a word. He always sits alone in the living

area, never saying a word to anybody. The guy is constantly with counselors, and last night...you tried using one of my shirts to choke himself to death...It kind of

scared me...makes me want to go home. Home sounds pretty great right now...I'm not so sure that I enjoy the concept of being here, even though I need it...

I'll write later, when I need to.

Off to Music Period...

Sincerely,

James

I close my blue journal before storing it under my mattress, making sure it won't be seen. Upon seeing the time, I need the call for Music Period would be coming up soon, and I wanted to walk out right as it is said. Right on schedule, once the small, ticking clock in my room hit 4 o'clock. The blue walls clouded my vision, catching my attention as it always does. I stare at them until I close the door behind me; the porcelain floor was cold and slippery under my socked feet. My mind remained blank, as every step was routine for me. Others emerged from their rooms, all wearing the same attire as me- white shirts and baby blue pants.

We were like a crowd of zombies. None us changed pace, wore a smile; all stuck in our own personal hells. I really wanted Kendall here, each day grew more and more uncomfortable for me. Mainly, because there were people who were fans of me...and they always pop out of nowhere and start talking to me. I love my fans, but they need to learn to give me space... Almost on queue, a girl named Caroline poofed next to me.

"Evening Jay! How was your session with Ms. Gilbert? Mine went great. She thinks I can be out soon. Just think, if you get better, and we both leave, maybe we can have some sort of conjoined future together!" The blonde's voice was monotone, but even I knew she was happy. At least she was...I'd do anything to be where she is. My eyes wander to her, and for a split second, she looked exactly like Kendall. I stopped walking and blinked, taking a second look.

Yes, just as I thought.

I'm going insane, I'm driving myself insane.

Everywhere I go, everyone I see.

It's all him.

Kendall.

I need to get out.

I need these two months to fly by. I miss him.

I really hope things are going alright...

Kendall POV

"Mom?" I pick my head up from my hands as my mom walks into James' and I's bedroom. It's been extremely empty without him. Everyone seems...different. Different as in unhappy. Carlos, Logan, Katie, my mom, everyone. Our fan pages are filled with sympathy, everyone wishing James recovery. I stopped going on the internet, checking my phone, email, watching TV. No matter what I do, where I go, I just feel that sense of guilt of me being responsible for the pain he's felt. I hate it. Mom looks down at me, a half smile on her face. Even she hasn't been as bright as normal.

"What's wrong sweetie?"

That's it. I couldn't hold it in anymore. Sobs shook my body, tears poured like a river. Instantly my mom was at my side, holding me.

~October 2, 2012~

"James! James it's alright! I'll be there as quick as I can, alright?! Hold on, baby, I'll be there soon!" I hung up the phone, my heart sounding louder than a bass drum in my chest. His voice scared me. The only thing I new at that moment, was to get a ride to his house right away. I rush out of my home, going out to the shed to retrieve my bike. He needed me. HE needed me. Fucking parents.

Actually.

Fucking horrible fathers.

The streets zoomed past me as it seemed I was in a race with the wind to get to James.' When I arrived, I slammed my way into the hell home, and immediately hurried to the stairs. Once at his room, I hear his cries coming from across the hall in the bathroom. Ringing stung like a million bees with each step that I advanced. I open the door to the bathroom, and see him on the ground. He looked...strange. James was curled up in a ball, his hair a mess, nose dripping, eyes blood shot. I noticed red on the floor, but thought of it as the blood the flooded out of his nose. His dad hit him again.

Fucking prick.

~present~

"I could have seen it! I should have noticed! God, I'm so fucking stupid!" I wail out.

My mom just held me.

And I'm glad for it.

James POV

Group.

Great.

I look around at the people who...I guess where new? I was removed from my music period to do group, because that is what my counselor recommended. To expose my feelings to strangers more- that that will benefit me, help me improve my emotional communication. Yeah right. As everyone had a chance to tell their stories, and how they feel about their pitiful lives, the last turn was me. Their eyes burned me, and it made me start to shake with anxiety. Sad I get terrified talking to a small group about my stupid feelings, when I am perfectly fine preforming before millions. I look at Ms. Gilbert with nervous eyes, and she nods her head, motioning to go on. I bite my lip before sucking in a deep breath, allowing my words to slip off my tongue.

"My name is James. And I'm here for attempted suicide. For a stupid reason. Or, well, reasons..." My eyes flash to everyone in the circle before continuing.

" I've wanted to kill myself since I was in fifth grade, and just never came around to doing so until a few months ago...I, uh...I cut...a lot...Almost as if I'm addicted..." Tears well my eyes, and I quickly blink them away.

"Probably am...So...I cut too deep this time...on purpose...I was enraged, and at that moment I felt as if I was alone...Everyone hated me...because I did something stupid that people weren't too keen about...

"I'm gay. And, I wasn't supposed to go to the tabloids about it, but...I couldn't hold it in anymore. I grew up hiding myself, my feelings...I had to tell everyone... Fans would sneak into my room, and try to touch me. I-I didn't like it...I know, weird...but...thats me...

" I knew I was gay since I was in fifth grade...and the whole killing myself was for that purpose...My dad...he didn't accept gays...and he thought that if he...if he m-molested me...maybe I wouldn't like guys." I just stare at my counselor, a tear rolls down my cheek.

"And, the worst thing was, I had feelings for my best friend...I held it in for years...never saying anything...but then, I was so happy, because I learned that he liked me back...Then my dad found out...I couldn't go to school after that day for at least two weeks...he beat me to the point I lost all confidence within myself...and I just..cracked...fell...But Kendall was there for me...It wasn't until right before I attempted...to k-kill myself...he broke up with me...I was already having a really, REALLY off day...My head was..uh.. fucking with me...that just...pushed me over the edge...I still want to tell myself that it's alright, but I know it's not. I screwed everything up for my future...No one will take me...The band is breaking up, all because of me...So...

"Now I'm here, trying to get better...try to accept myself for who I am, what I am...And just learn to work around problems...so..yeah...That's my story." I bow my head, and wipe away the tears that spilled from my face. My story was scrambled, I just truly hoped that people wouldn't call me pathetic for it...although I already know they do. That's why I was removed from my last group. I ended up leaving it because they ALL beat on me verbally.

I was surprised that no one said anything, except one girl...

"I have faith in you..."

That actually lifted my mood for the rest of the day.

Now for visitors day tomorrow.

I needed to see Kendall.