He was so unsettled he was unable to make a decision. Any decision. Buying coffee was a problem. When asked which size he wanted, small or big, he would always end up with two cups. One big. One small.
It was a disease really.
His mother was slowly losing her mind. She had developed “fits”.
His father would run away, from the both of them, as often as possible.
When he was four they sent him to a shrink for his first disastrous therapy.
When he was nine, his therapist committed suicide. By then his father barely ever came home again, his mother needed to dye her hair twice a week.
Thus, he was sent to boarding school.
He made no friends. Obviously. He was laughed at. Obviously. He hated multiple choice tests. Obviously.
Yet, he had the best time ever. He fell in love for the first time. Twins! Identical twins. Whichever he’d chose, it’d be the right choice! He was in heaven until one of them decided to cut her hair short.
He lost sleep appetite temper.
His parents were called in; he was kicked out