Full Name: Tomas Jones.
Nickname(s):Jr, Tommy, Tom, Brat
Age: Fifteen and a half (November 12th)
Male/Female: Male
Ethnicity/Race: White, slight American Indian
Orientation: Straight
Ideal Partner: Someone who always speaks quietly and sweetly to him
Unlike a phobia, where your fear connects to a specific thing or situation, anxiety of generalized anxiety disorder (GAD) is diffusedâa general feeling of dread or unease that colors his whole life grey. This anxiety is less intense than a panic attack, yet longer lasting. At times though, when it gets extreme, it leaves him crying and screaming that he "doesn't know what to do", or asking for the people to "Make the voices stop." Needs to be kept on constant medication.
Tomas seems to be a very calm and understanding young man, yet he gets very anxious when people talk loudly or about him. He's disturbed by every little noise, so we have to keep him in rooms with very few windows. He's distant towards all the doctors. Tomas takes everything we mention too seriously, and gets frightened easily when we start talking about medication and surgery. He's shown to act very negatively towards most patients. He believes that he himself can walk out of here any time he wants, and has attempted escape.
Likes:
-Soft beds
-Sleeping
-Calming music
-Talking to friends
-Hearing people sing
Dislikes:
-People getting too close
-Hard foods
-Sudden/Loud noises
-Sudden/Loud movements
-Going outside
-"The fairies"
Habits:
-Whispering instead of talking
-Pulling hair out
-Stuttering
-Squinting
Skills:
-Heightened hearing ability(Believes he can hear things that no one else can.)
"Tomas, We'd like to hear your story again."
"Again?"
"Again."
"Alright but.. this is the last time." He paused to think. " I've... I've lived with my father ever since I was little. Mother died of brain cancer when I was t-two, I think, so I never really.. knew her that well.. I uh, me and my father. W-we were kinda close but.. not really.. He hated how weak I was.. "
"Was he abusive?"
"No... He didn't hit me or anything. But he was mean... a lot... Wh-when I was little, he wanted me to play baseball and soccer, but every time I got out on the field, I felt nervous.... I wouldn't move. I ended up breaking a lot of bones back then, and got kicked out of a lot of sports.. I think he hated me... He called me names all the time. Pathetic. Small. Sensitive little shit...but, o-one day, my dad made me get a check up with the doctors."
"And why did he do that?"
"Because I got hit by a car. I was riding my bike and.. didn't see it coming. Next thing I knew; Bam. My blood all over the concrete. He thought I was dead, until I groaned. Right after that I told my dad my ears hurt.. I told him I couldn't hear him... He actually seemed worried about me that time. He was almost in tears, really.. He sent me to the Emergency room, to see if I had broken any bones. I did, actually. My left arm. My skull was hit pretty hard, but there weren't any cracks.. But my ears. My ears were so done for. They told me I would never hear again.."
"And Tomas, how could they tell you if you couldn't even hear?"
"That's just it; I could hear. I could hear perfectly fine...! In fact, even better than before.." Tomas gave me a cackle and an actual smile. " I heard the doctors voices as clear as day, and, I heard the nurses impatient shuffling outside of the door. I heard the tapping of my father's foot, outside of the whole building, and I.. I told them I could. I-I told them I could hear them, but they didn't believe me. So I told them I could hear my father's tapping foot, but they told me I was.. lying. L-Lying about hearing."
"And were you?"
"I can hear you now, can't I? But no, for some reason he still didn't believe me... So, I told the d-doctor that, I could hear his wife pressing the dial button on her phone. She was calling to tell him about her sister, who had just given birth. He didn't believe me, until a little buzzing noise came out of his back pocket... He, He looked at me like he saw a ghost. Immediately, He ordered security to put me here... in this place. They dragged me out of the doctors office, and into the back of a van. I yelled for my father, but he didn't come. My father stood watching them put me away in the back of a van. I think I saw him smile.. I yelled and yelled until my ears bled from such noise, b-but he still didn't come..."
"So do you hate your father?"
"No, I love my father very much... but I want my revenge. I don't forgive him, and I don't forgive you either. You don't believe me. You think I'm lying." Tomas's voice raised a bit. " And, I know you think I'm just as crazy as the other people here, but I'm not! E-Everyone here thinks i'm so small... so.. so weak, defenseless.... I know you do!" Tomas huffed and closed his eyes one last time. " ....But my mother, she forgives you. My mother thinks you're all right about me..."
"....Tomas, your mother's dead. She couldn't have spoken to you."
"Just because someone's dead doesn't mean you can't hear them. You've heard Elvis Presley before, haven't you? So why is my mother any different? But it's not just my mother I can hear now. No, I can also hear the fairies.."
"The fairies, Tomas?"
"Yes, the fairies.. they're.. they're like little angels.. I've never actually seen them of course, b-but their voices.. their voices are like violins to my ears. They talk so sweetly to me, calling me their sweet little tom. Yet they c-confuse me, ask me if I've talked to King Arthur recently. I tell them no, because I don't even know who that is. Now, they haven't been so kind. They say things like, "Have thou been swallowed by a fish, Tom? Thou been caught in thy's kinsman's dinner? Thou's been an unfortunate dwarf now.. hasn't thee?'"
"...Alright Tomas, that'll be enough for today. We'll do this again some other time. "