"I think if I took therapy, the doctor would quit. He’d just pick up the couch and walk out of the room." – Don Rickles


"Mum can I go outside?"
"No Gabriel. You need to stay inside."
"But I don't want to, I'm bored in here."
"If you wait a bit I'll take you out with me when I go to the shops. I'll let you pick out whatever toy you want."
"...Okay."

           Deep pools of green that seem to belong to someone much older than the child that stands in front of the wall of toys. They all stare back at him, bright colours and words marketed the toys as though they were desperate to go home with you.
           Gabriel couldn't be fooled. So he picked a book instead.
           When he returned, non-combative, to his mother she realised this was quite a trick to distract him from the outside world. The outside world that had taken her daughter from her far before she was ready. If she appeased him with items then perhaps his desire to go outside would diminish. If she could give him all he wanted inside then outside would become a thing of the past. Did she know it was wrong? Yes. She knew it the second she took that book from her sons hands and placed it into her basket. But she would only do it for a little bit she promised herself. Just a little bit.

           He'd started storing things on his bed when he was a little over ten. He'd run out of space on his bookshelves for all the books he'd been bought. His toy box just about burst at the hinges and the floor was just about covered in various odds and end. A television, an Atari, several games, clothing, art supplies, just everything a child could ever want. He never asked for any of them, eventually he'd actually stopped picking things out. But every friday when his father got paid his mother came home with something she would figure her son would want. But it hit a point where it was all too much stuff, and eventually he began storing his favourite things on his bed. He began to make a nest of things where he slept. Keeping only a small hole where a person could lay. The less time he spent outside the more this nest became important. These things were his friends, and he wanted his friends close at all times.
           As he got older his tastes changed of course, but some habits die hard. He'd tried very hard for perhaps the hundredth time to clean off his bed. He'd taken all the records and placed them respectively in neat little stacks to eventually be brought to the shop. Each book he'd had in the bed was now placed on their respective shelves. His two laptops, one of which hadn't moved from the bed since he bought it had been placed on a desk in front of the window he'd bought ages ago but merely served now as a place to collect papers. All of his class planning materials were scooped up and placed into a large canvas tote bag and he'd actually pulled the seven blankets he had scattered around the bed off and made it up neatly.
           It looked so... lonely. He knew the desire was irrational. He knew that no normal person in the whole entire world did that sort of thing. Even a psychiatrist would think him mad if he let them into his mind when it came to this aspect of his life. He frowned and laid back down on his bed. Without all the things on his bed he actually fit on it moderately well. Course his feet still hung over the bed, that happened no matter what he did, but he could sort of sprawl out a bit more. Which was nice. He guessed.
           He felt stressed out. One would think that not living in a mass of papers, various books, and computers would make someone feel better. He didn't. If anything he felt worse now that the room was clean and the bed was empty. He was left with his thoughts which were dangerous of course because all he could think about was how abnormal this all was, and just how badly he wanted all his stuff back on his bed. Cobalt was the only one taking it smashingly as she dashed around the bed purring happily. Even though she'd gotten used to the mess that was Gabriel's bed she seemed all too pleased to have some space to roll about. Though this only lasted so long before she took her usual spot up on his pillow curling in at the back of his neck purring loudly as she usually did. With her there it felt a little more normal, but not really. He laid there for hours trying to sleep which wasn't abnormal really given his terrible sleep habits but once he hit the three o'clock in the morning mark he realised he'd never sleep this way.
           He crawled out of bed leaving his cat to slowly slide into the middle of the pillow. He began to put his books back, one of his computers, a couple of records he'd been meaning to go through, his school shoulder bag. The papers he'd put in the canvas bag. He worked until he had a nice little nest formed once more. He knew it was wrong, he knew in order to sleep like a normal person again he'd need to stop all this nonsense. But right now he couldn't. There was no good reason to stop now really all things considered and the clutter in his bed made him feel like things were a little more normal right now. He laid back down again instantly feeling more relaxed, the kitten on his head happily readjusted herself and went back to bed and he slept too. Only for a few hours but at least it was something better than lying there away stressing.

It took an average of thirty days to break a habit. This just wasn't going to be day one.