Agateophobia: Fear of Insanity

The boy was curled in on himself, palms clasped over his temples and back pressed into the wall.

Running and hiding and no where to go.

This definitely wasn't normal. Yoseob was quiet at most but nothing close to antisocial or inapproachable or anything out of the ordinary. He got average grades. He didn't stick out. It wasn't in his nature. It wasn't in his system.

He was strictly normal.

Then one day he woke up with a throbbing head and back. With bloodshot eyes and dyed hair. Bright platinum blonde.

He'd spent the whole day in the bathroom, rocking back and forth and fists in his bright hair. Crying. Thinking. Trying to make sense of it. Littering the tiles with strands of white blonde, red tipped.

But Yang Yoseob was normal.

Then one day he blinked to find marks down his arms. Some deep and red, drops still swelling at the edges. Some shallow and tender and pink. Some just barely ripping his outer skin. Some long. Some short. All numb.

He'd held down his scream of pure terror and choked out a sob, biting his lip and running to grab a dark long sleeve shirt and a hoodie. Running into his bed and rubbing hs clothed arms as if it would return their once smooth, blank, surfaces.

But this didn't mean he wasn't normal.

Then one night he'd rubbed his face and blinked his eyes to get used to the darkness. The darkness of an empty alleyway. As they adjusted he'd wiped his sticky hands down on the walls, although it didn't help much beause they were splattered in the same substnace. His dazed mind came back to earth and he found his eyes filling once again. Not a single peep of sound but buckets of tears. They fell from his blank face as he stared at the ripped apart animal at his feet.

He had walked home after  somewhat cleaning his hands and face, face unchanging the whole way. It was only until he was safe in the bathtub and scrubbed raw and clean of any of the dog's blood that he let a sob escape.

But he was definitely still normal.

Then... Then here he was. Curled in on his stomach as if trying to shrink. Hands splayed over the sides of his head. Back pressed up and trying his absolute best to sink into the wall.

He sunk his head into his knees and made sounds like whimpers of terror and pain, breathing shallow. He was sweating. To the point where droplets were starting to form at the edges of his blonde hair. His dark long sleeve was stained from the gathering fluid and his cuts were stingin from it. His clammy, sweaty palms were making the dried burgundy form as liquid again.

Then something snapped.

And the boy slowly raised his head.

Smiling as wide as he could he unraveled himself and stared at his tinted hands, smiling growing impossibly wider by the second.

"It's alright.... Yang Yoseob is normal."