CHAPTER 10
I keep thinking of how our first healing session went today. It wasn’t really anything different from the others in my opinion. We followed our usual routine of having me expressing my honest thoughts and opinions on whatever questions he came up with. Maybe with the way he has relaxed I with him is the reason. I don’t feel like I am talking with a professional psychologist when talking with him. He really feels like, and has become, only a close friend of mine whom I know I can always trust.
He was already seated and waiting for me in his chair. As soon as he sees what I am carrying, his face lightens up with interest. “Hey, Zach. Here’s your specially demanded painting.” I smirk at him before putting down the covered painting on the floor, making sure not even an inch peeks out of the cover.
“What have you made, Jonah?” The excitement he hides from his face is obvious from his voice. Realizing that he is behaving rather unprofessionally himself, he clears his throat and has a blank expression before asking the same question again.
“Why don’t you take a look yourself?” I reply and then remove the paper cover from the painting. Just as I remove the cover, I wonder if he would like it. Then I remember that this is my hobby and I like doing it. If he doesn’t like it, I should try to improve and ignore it otherwise. Not that he will ever criticize something of me that badly to me have to ignore it. And I already know this is a great painting, even Mom agreed. Before a crying session started with her babbling how much ‘her poor baby’ had gone through. Awkward stuff.
Zach is silent for a long time as he stares at the painting of his office building. It is a little brighter than its surroundings, making it feel as a beacon of sorts. “This building looks like a source of light against all the darkness that in which people often find themselves lost in. The darkness I found myself lost in. It sounds a bit embarrassing because it is cheesy but I really do feel this place like this. The idea actually came when I left your office after last session though making it perfect took nearly all of the week.”
“Quite interesting. I will keep this hanging on the wall to improve, even if slightly, the ‘terrible decoration’ I have here.” Having written that about his journal, I recognize the obvious dig.
“Couldn’t really lie, Zach. This place feels like it is rented and you might just run away in the middle of a session after grabbing a few things once the real owner returns with the police with me as bait.” I grinned. “I might want to see your license again.”
“Very funny.” He comments in a deadpan tone, though his face is obviously fighting a smile. “I see today is a good day. So, what else did you do this week, Andrew?”
I pause a few minutes as I try to sort all the things I have to tell. “This has been quite a busy week, actually, with me starting to hang out with friends after school. Monday was the beach day. We practically sunburnt ourselves. See here?” I bent my neck and showed him the tan lines forming there. “I forgot sunscreen there and we spent the entire evening there having fun and playing beach volleyball. Then Tuesday was pizza and movie day. At John’s place, he has an amazing sound system in the basement, which is also his room, all of us were up all night watching movies picked by us. Melissa chose some chick-flick during which all the guys talked through, annoying her and making her change the film. Then Sam came up with Scream and after that it became a marathon. We also found out that although Mel is the girl of the group, she was the one who screamed the loudest at gory scenes in excitement. There must have been some confusion above that she was born a girl. Wednesday was quite boring relatively as we had a test on Thursday so we spent the time group studying. Thursday was a gym day, after overindulging on pizzas after a successful exam earlier in the day, and while exercising, we also had the enjoyment of Mel and John compete to try to hook up with as many people as possible. John won that by only one person and they both hooked up with over thirty people. Friday nights mark the start of weekend so it was a party night. It was a quite familiar feeling since even if people and locations change, the main spirit of a party doesn’t. Saturday I spent finishing up this painting of yours to give you today. Simon has grown into quite a loner guy though Mel says he’s interested in some girl and is ditching us for her. Poor girl’s broken by the way her crush is going after someone else.”
Zach scribbles something once I am done and then smiles while responding, “I asked what you did this week in general. You could have just said that you hung out with them instead of explaining and carried on with other people. Still trying to make up for that lie?”
Shoot! He’s good. “Yeah. I’m still sorry about that.” I apologize once again. Then I answer him again, “Alright, then. That’s what happened with friends. Dad called twice this week. I think he’s interested in someone back there but I don’t really know who, just that it has to be someone new because Dad had begun to dislike others. Mom was so happy with me hanging out with friends, she actually followed me the first day to see I wasn’t lying, that she doesn’t mind that we don’t see each other during the day except at breakfast and at dinner. The school work has been slow this week too.”
“I read your journal and noted a small similarity between you old and new circle of friends.” Zach starts. “In the old group you had seven main friends, including Kylie, and here, you again have seven main friends, in which Melissa is a girl. You see what I mean? My concern and question is that are you trying to recreate your old life in Witchbury Falls?”
For a moment, I take this information in before answering. “If you hadn’t pointed that out, then I would have said no. But now, with that small bit of connection, I feel as if I may be. Not intentionally, of course. But now that you do point it out, I feel that there have been many instances where I have felt like trying to create a substitute for what I had in Witchbury Falls without being direct about it. Nothing major, all small stuffs with minor differences. There are eight friends in this new circle, not seven. Still, what do you think I should do?”
“Oh, nothing really. All you need to do is accept that Witchbury Falls is now your past and you are now in Seattle. I don’t want you to quit doing anything you would normally do. Just try to make everything you do, like hang out with friends and stuff, have a little taste of this place so you can adjust yourself here. No need to force it, just let it happen with only small nudges. Your mind will make comparisons and it is normal. Everyone does. Go with the flow of the city. This will help you to place Witchbury Falls where it rightfully belongs. In your memories as a thing of the past instead of something you still wish for. Okay?” Zach confirms whether I understood his point or not and I agree. Though that was not really that helpful in suggestions on how but at least I know what to do.
“You hung out with the new friends. Do you think they trust you enough?” Zach asks and it takes me a moment to honestly about think the answer.
“Yes, I think they do. I mean, to them my behaviour is still weird but they understand that it just how I am. They are quite understanding, though they don’t hesitate in calling out that I am still stuck in my ‘troubled teenager’ times.”
“Well, that’s good. That’s progress that you managed to talk this through with them. Any bad days this week?” Zach asks as he writes something in his notepad.
“Yeah. Three actually.” I hesitantly confess. “One was Tuesday evening, which is why the entire group decided it to be movie night instead of the usual Wednesday. The next was Thursday during the school. I almost failed the test but others kept encouraging me by mouthing that they really were there for me. We almost got caught once and Aiden had to hide it as a yawn to deflect suspicion. After test, we ditched school for ice-cream and chocolate to help me, even though we knew we might get in trouble later. This is why I said I could count on them. The third one though was last night when I just couldn’t draw this painting perfectly. I must have killed tens of trees while trying to draw only a single line. The frustration and helplessness that got hold of me then was so strong that without Kevin I wouldn??
?t have made it through. I called him, crying out of being a disappointment, and he, despite being at some party, immediately helped me regain control. We chatted for nearly three hours.” I took a deep breath to relax my now small voice before asking in a low voice, “Why is this happening?”
“Because you are afraid. On Tuesday, you were afraid of what they really thought of you and were afraid of being let down. On Thursday, it was a fear of failing and disappointing people around you and last night you were scared of disappointing me. You see the pattern here?” I nodded so that he could continue. “Andy, you need to understand that you don’t have to be afraid. You can’t always make everyone happy but you can make yourself happy. Do not be afraid of what others will think of you. As long as you are honest with yourself, you do not have to be scared. I know it sounds hard to implement and it is but you have time to adapt to it. Whenever you think you would disappoint others, just repeat to yourself that your success or failure doesn’t really matter. Your effort does. Understood?” I give him a small smile in response before he continues, after noting something down in his notebook. “Though I must emphasize that it might seem so right now but fear isn’t the only cause of these bad moments. It is just one of the main reasons. By learning to control your fears though would help in controlling one cause though.” I nod once again, having already figured that one out. Not every bad moment arose when I was afraid like this. “So you have kept contact with Kevin? What about Kylie? Have you contacted her yet? With the emotions you mentioned in your journal, it must be hard not to, right?” Even though his tone is gentle, I feel accused at his words for some reason.
It reminds me of all the things the people of Witchbury suspected me of doing as if by getting off on the adrenaline rush meant that I slaughtered little puppies in church. I know he wanted me to drop my anger but the events of that one month still sting deep within and can’t be undone just yet. And all that anger leaks out, unintentionally, when I respond. “Whoa doc. Better be careful there. I’m not even going to consider answering it so we can just move on.” And we don’t. Every time he tries to make me talk about Kylie, I can feel my defensiveness increasing. By the fifth time, it is clear he has given up.
“What happened Andy? Why this sudden defensiveness?” Zach finally questions, his expression blank and his pencil ready to note whatever I tell him. It is quite a long string of curses. My mother would have bleached my mouth if she heard me. Zach’s expression is absolutely shocked and I simply give him the finger before sitting quietly with my arms crossed.
“That’s quite an interesting vocabulary you keep. I will touch back on this question later. How do you feel now?” He asks and the response at the tip of my mouth is that ‘you aren’t my shrink’. But he is. And I did promise him honesty.
“Angry. No, infuriated. So much infuriated that I wouldn’t hesitate in setting fire or murdering you if you so much as annoy me. That bad. You’ve been warned shrink.” I reply. To be honest, even I don’t know why this is happening. Zach scribbles something down in his notepad and I almost jump to snatch it away from him to see what he calls this. Psychotic break? Sociopathic tendencies? Or was it psychopathic? (Note to self: Check the difference between the two.) Schizophrenia?
Instead of being ruffled, Zach’s voice is calm. “Tell me about the Witchbury Falls. The falls, not the town. What you liked there? How did it look like?”
Safe move. “The Witchbury Falls had water falling from quite a height down to the rocks below where it continued its path forward. The fall wasn’t big or something and if the person who discovered it wasn’t lucky, this place would never have been discovered. It was a simple place but with a great sight to see. The white fog of water upon the rocks, the odd shapes of the rocks in the water, the giant trees and plants and vines near the banks. It was simply a sight that you could spend hours watching. I spent an entire evening watching that place, you know? Zach, if you ever go to that place, go and see the sight there. It just screams ‘remember me’. I still see it in my mind when I close it when alone. Aside from the sound of water falling, which could be easily ignored, I could hear nothing else and it was calming.” My voice is once again wistful and eyes closed as I feel the calm settle over me.
“Why were you angry just now Andy?” Zach asks, catching me off-guard. His question actually reminds me that I was murderously angry moments ago.
“I don’t really know.” I confess. “Your words sounded like an accusation and it reminded me of the way people back there used to talk to me as if everything wrong in the world happened because I existed. And that infuriated me. I still haven’t forgiven them. And no, I haven’t really talked to Kylie. She needs to move on from me, not be stuck like I am.” With a deep sigh, I add, “As I always will be.”
“Do you think you will ever try to contact her again?” Zach asks and I remember one of my many fantasies that had helped me relax while talking to Kevin. One in which Kylie and I, fully cured, were together. It was a personal motivator for me.
“Yes, once this is dealt with. I will return to her to see if she’s available once I am sure I won’t become a burden to her.” I respond. Zach notes something down before asking again.
“And why don’t you think she loves you as much as you love her?” I stiffen at his response because it means I made a huge mistake by doing what I have done and the thought of how much pain I might have caused her hurts me too. But untreated, I wasn’t sure what our future would have been. No, what I did was for the best, right or not.
“I just do.” That is all the response I give him and although unsatisfied, he doesn’t push me for more. Yet. He will later when I get comfortable in his presence again. I have no doubt about that. Maybe when he does, I will have a better answer than that.
“Did you read the journal? Of course you did. What did you think? I want you to be as much honest as you can.” I ask the one question that has been plaguing my mind since the moment I left the office last week. It was a double-edged sword, this desire to find out what he thought.
“Yes, I did read it. Honestly, you being honest into that journal was much more useful than anything else in understanding your case. Yours is a unique case, even more so than others’. Your mom and dad were correct in assuming that their divorce was indeed the thing that steered you towards it. The changes in behaviours of the people before and after the reveal was significant and not in a good way. Though I must add that among all those who hold a grudge to you, this Simon Samson kid probably won’t let it go ever and he deserves to hold on to it as long as he wants. You did scar him. Still, his behaviour wasn’t really acceptable.
The skipped details of the events at school in the weeks before coming here are acceptable, as the words, although not adequate, are more than enough to express what you were feeling. As I told you during the session in which you wrote that part here due to the depression attacks, the intention of the healing process is not to make you suffer through that pain or any other horrible feeling again but to help you deal with it so that you can keep it as a part of your past, nothing else. If you hadn’t said you had troubles in writing, I would have blindly suggested you to pick it as a career path.” His mention of the career path reminds me that I had asked him for advice on which courses to major in. He continues.
“In your entire journal, there are three relatively unnecessary scenes. First is a childhood scene where you described your home and the second is the scene where you noted the painting you made on the roof of your room. The third is the way you described your empty room when you moved in. They are descriptions added by your sub-consciousness not because they were necessary but were things that stuck with you. Which is why my suggestion was to choose your major in painting for higher education. Note the keyword though: Suggestion, not order or something. You are still free to choose your path. It’s just that I believe you must enjoy what you do so that it never becomes a burden. You can also apply for a course to learn more about interior decoration. Perhaps then
I would hire you someday for my office. It is supposed to have a ‘clean slate’ vibe for the patients but, according to you, is the worst interior decoration possible. What do you think?” He finally stops and I look at him and think about his words before responding.
“Yes to the painting part. I would like my job to never become a burden on me. The interior decoration part was just comments. I don’t think I am cut out for that stuff. That empty room I wrote about in the journal upon moving in? It still feels empty because I can’t really come up with a way to make it properly feel mine. Thanks for the suggestion though.” With a smile, Zach notes something in his notepad and then stands up.
“You can choose your college as per your need. If you decide to move far away then I want you to know that I have colleagues who wouldn’t mind taking over your case from the point we would leave it in. I do not want you to make choices for anyone else’s sake but for yourself. Think over this for your next session.” He speaks and then adds, “That’ll be all for today.”
Already? Shocked, I look at the clock to see that it is indeed true. And so I leave with a farewell. The walk home is a blur as I am completely lost within my thoughts. Thankfully I made it back in one piece. Once home, I lie down on my bed and think about Zach’s words.
I go online and search the internet for a nice college for higher education in painting. A college in grabs my attention in Seattle itself, Institute of Fine Arts with a four year long Bachelor course that specializes in Illustration. Being in Seattle itself would mean that I could continue seeing Zach even while in college (and keep him and Mom away as much as I can). I frown at seeing that I need a portfolio of at least 15 works, with as many designs as possible, in order to compete for a spot in there. Well there are other requirements too but they are relatively easier to take care of so I don’t really bother with them.
To start a career as a painter, I would choose Bachelor in Fine Arts with specialization in Illustration. It feels a lot more comfortable than other options. After that I could do freelance stuff and hold exhibitions and stuff, I know getting a little ahead of myself, to keep myself afloat till I feel ready to work for my Master degree. After that, it would only be a matter of maintaining a nice reputation to be well-off in the future.
Okay, reality-check now. Time to work on the first step.
So I begin to think about something to paint. And the first thing that comes to my mind makes me smile. And it comes along with its title as well.
Well, it’s time for the others to see what I saw that day at the waterfall and its title will be what my mantra became: Fear to Live For.
EXTRA: THE ATTEMPT TO QUIT
“Hello Andy. Congratulations on getting the coveted place in the Seattle Institute of Fine Arts. Madeline told me how hard you worked for that.” Zach greets me as I enter our office for the weekly session. I frown a bit at him referring to my mom by her name instead of the usual ‘your mother’. Is there something going on between the two of them?
“Thanks, Zach. And nothing new and that interesting to report. The only thing that happened this week was the murder of Mr Silvi. Poor Claire was devastated. Surely you heard it all in the papers, right? Terrifying. Couldn’t sleep that night. You know, haunted by thoughts of what would I be like if it were my dad or mom.” Being truthful with him is as easy and involuntary as breathing. I know he won’t betray my trust and he will really pay attention to every single word of mine instead of just nodding off to my voice while mentally getting lost in his own thoughts.
“Yes, an unfortunate event. Please pass my condolences to the poor girl. Even the bland paparazzi couldn’t hide the devastation every inch of her frame was buried under. I say this as a friend and not as your doctor, if you think she would need my help, send her to me. I promise to treat her with care and respect. But we are not here for her. We are here for you, Andy. Yes, the fear of losing the people you care about can help you realize your mistakes in the relationships you have.” He speaks and my head, which had been staring at my donated painting while considering what changes I would have liked on it, turns instantly to stare at him in disbelief. Did he just make a joke on me? “A concept that I know that you have lived through so long.” He adds with a pointed gaze. He so did!
I open my mouth to respond but he doesn’t notice – or probably ignores - as he continues. “Your case has always been a unique one Andy and what I would normally suggest as a cure for these recent thoughts would actually be counter-productive to all your treatment. Don’t you agree?” He pauses for my response and I finally speak up.
“Did you just make a joke on me?” My voice is still incredulous and I feel a bit of hurt seeping in me. Here I am trying to justify my completely vulnerable behaviour towards him and he makes joke of my huge issue like it is nothing. Zach immediately looks up from the notepad he is writing on as he reads my tone and quickly stands up to most likely reassure me. I burrow myself deeper into the chair and he stops.
“Andy, I didn’t mean to create a joke on your issue. I understand its seriousness and was just trying to make a point that your issue binds me from suggesting the usual counsel I would give other patients to re-evaluate their lives and the people in them. I was trying to make you understand that it might set you off back on that track. I truly am sorry for any unintended implications.”
“Do you know what day is today, Zach? It’s Saturday. Mr Silvi died on Tuesday. That means I had these thoughts four days ago. I’m still fine, am I not? Then why do you still treat me like I’m still fragile and would just turn back into those very habits THAT STOLE MY LIFE FROM ME!” What starts as a pointed remark in a small voice ends up in a loud shout and the following silence is deafening with the echoes my ear produce.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out I have temporarily lost control. My mind, in the background, keeps processing things like I lost control because I’m hurting. Sobs erupt from within as the shock finally wears off. I hurt because he being judgemental hurt. Zach retreats a step back slowly and I numbly wonder if he is going to run now. If he is going to leave me alone. I feel the depression lift its consuming head within me again and my voice is barely audible in the large room as I weakly mutter. “Leave, Zach. I know you want to. There have been many people who have left me. I can see you backing away to turn around and leave without ever looking back. I have not had slightest of control over who stayed with me and who didn’t but I will regain some back now. Leave, Zach. I will leave before my hour is up. There is nothing more to do here anymore.” Zach doesn’t respond and I can only think of how mentally relieved he would be.
It had started as just another session. Life was going well, in fact it was becoming great, and now… now nothing seemed worth it. Why bother trying? I’m going to fail anyway. It is only when I feel my tears leave a mark down my face that I realize my eyes have closed on their own and the small shakes I experience aren’t of any earthquake but are my suppressed whimpers. And I nearly jump when Zach speaks my name all of a sudden.
“Andy, crying is often the best outlet for the dark feelings we might leave bottled within.” Still rationalizing? I hate you. Go away. “There is a patient-doctor trust that makes every treatment possible. It is the basis that makes one truly willing to be completely vulnerable in front of someone else in hope that when they fall, that other person would be there to catch them.” I don’t want to hear your psychobabble. GO AWAY. “By making that off-hand comment about your situation, I betrayed every inch of the trust you placed in me.” There was some noise, probably of him sitting back in his comfortable chair, while I mentally kept shouting ‘GO AWAY!’ at him.
“I want you to know that I understand that my action was absolutely wrong and hurtful and a clear betrayal of the trust you have placed in me. And I deeply regret this. How about a compromise? You don’t trust me again but still talk to me as a professional. I have seen how much you want the power to say you are fine, Andy. Don’t throw it away for the sake of getting back to me. P
lease Andy, will you continue to heal?” Zach comments and I almost retort that I would rather have a new doctor than continue with him. But then the fear of being judged, being ridiculed, being analysed by some stranger overcomes me. I want something other than Zach but I want his feeling of safety too. And so I simply nod to his request, accepting that this professional distance would be the perfect punishment for this doctor who treats me like his own kid.
“What do you want to talk about then, Doctor … Collins?” It takes me a moment to actually remember his surname but the quick browsing of my memory is worth the trouble on seeing him flinch slightly.
“Call me Zach, Andrew. Can I call you Andy?” He asks in a polite but detached tone and I don’t feel anything as I give him a short nod. He can call me by my full name for all I care now. “Alright then, in the journal you gave me, there was a mention of you trying to quit on your own but you never elaborated. Can you tell me what happened?” In just few words, nothing that happened just now seems to matter to me anymore. It is as if his words have opened the floodgates of the memories of Witchbury Falls and I have to try extremely hard to not let any emotion show on my face. This Zach doesn’t deserve any of my honest emotions – even the ones that shred me within to pieces. I mentally think back on how to start about that day that no one else ever knew about and decide that I would just be straight-forward with the information.
“The day before my tenth birthday was the day I tried another of my stunts. Without letting anyone know, I positioned myself underneath my dad’s car and held on to the pipes just minutes before he went to church. I had calculated the travelling time would be around ten minutes. If only I had known that it would be the longest ten minutes of my life. My hands had shivered as I had hurriedly tried to get a strong grip on it.” Without realizing, my eyes glaze over and I am back in those moments as I narrate them to him.
My hand shakes as I try to hold myself in position. Come on Andy, I mentally tell myself, get a hard grip before Dad comes. I need to find out where and how I want to celebrate my birthday. My hands shiver a lot as the fear keeps putting doubt in me. What if I get hurt by something on the road? What if I fall? What if I can’t hold on? I nearly give up but the one thing that makes me grip the machinery tighter is the desire to beat these doubts.
Before I can do anything more though, I hear my dad step into the garage. “Andy, wake up now. I am going to church and the breakfast is on the table.” He shouts towards my bedroom upstairs as he walks to the car. If only he knew I hadn’t slept last night at all to make this an interesting one. On second thought, it is better that he doesn’t know.
A strong shiver goes through me when he slams the car door shut after getting in and I barely contain the yelp that escapes me when he starts the car. All the fake bravado is now gone and all I can think of now is that I really don’t want to do this. And as a shuddering noise fills the garage as the door opens, I begin to loosen my hold over the car’s underside. But things backfire as my hands are now stuck and I cannot move myself away. The fear that grips me is a bone-chilling one and so is the noise I let out when I feel the car begin to move. And I curse dad’s habit of honking the horn before leaving the house when he doesn’t hear me.
The driveway is left behind as I feel the tarmac brush against my back. I don’t even try to breathe, fearing it might make me get a more dangerous contact with the ground. I aim to be absolutely frozen in my position as the car drives to the church. But only a minute later, my body begins to shatter my illusion of being able to hold on to the car perfectly when I feel my arms begin to ache. And without realizing it, I lower my body to relax it.
The scrape against the still tarmac of my fast moving body peels the back layers of cloth and skin away and I yell. For reasons I would never know, dad didn’t hear it. And though I cried, I never shouted again as the fear of being caught invaded again. In my mind, thousands of different scenarios played around and none of them ended even slightly well for me. One even had my father dumping me in the Witchbury Falls with a large stone tied to me in anger at me for risking my life like this.
And so even though my hands ached, my fingers were numb from the blood loss, my head hurt from trying to resist the sleepiness and my back burned and bled from the scraping against the floor, I held on. I held on to the car until we reached the church and I only prayed, to anyone who would listen, for strength to be able to keep myself from getting hurt any further. Whoever did hear me was gracious enough to give me the strength to hold on and that was how I reached the church. I remember holding on to the pipes as tightly as I can to stop myself from falling or worse. I also desperately pray that I am not seen by anyone in my hiding spot.
“Andy! Andy!” I feel disoriented as the unfamiliar place around me shakes. After several seconds, my mind remembers where I was and I realize that I am the one trembling while Zach calls me out of my panic attack. I try to look up to him but I can’t as I still feel my body reliving the memory. The fear and helplessness of those ten minutes still affect my mind as I try to return to the present.
After several minutes of silence in the room, filled somewhat only by my deep breathing and the sharp panting as the fear leaves me, Zach clears his throat and I look at him. Gone is the resolve to be a stranger to him right now. I am at my weakest in this moment and I have no doubt that all he sees within me is the broken and scared kid that I have always tried to somewhat hide from him. “If you want, you can go.” I take a violent deep breath as a fear of being finally rejected by him settles in and he quickly adds in a still uncertain tone. “… or you can stay here to recuperate. I can leave if you want.”
I don’t respond and I hear him leave the chair. A panic consumes me, demanding that I do not let him leave and I open my eyes – that I don’t remember closing – and whisper a one-word plea. “Stay.” He is almost at the door when he hears the defeated emotion behind that one word and he stops. Then he turns towards me and slowly walks towards me.
It is as if my mind processes that only by keeping him curious will ensure his company. And so I continue telling him, even though it pains to spill even a letter out of me. “When I reached the church, I waited for a few moments for dad to get in the church and freed my hands as soon as I could then. The scream I let out when collapsed back on that painful rough and cold tarmac was just as worse as the first but no one heard me. And before anyone could catch me, I ran into the woods. There was a way through the woods that led right to the Witchbury Falls from the church. It was used mainly for church picnics and stuff. I ran right through it and even though I had no idea how to navigate the forests, I ran. It felt like hours, even though it must have been a few minutes at most when I finally reached the fall. And I did the first thing I could think of. I jumped in the swift waters. All that went through my mind was that my back burned and the water looked soothing. I had trust that my swimming would be capable of helping me be safe.
I nearly drowned. The sharp pain that zinged through my back made me scream out loud and I swallowed lots of water, releasing my much-needed air. Combining that with the tired limbs and the sleepiness, I couldn’t have swam even if the water had been only knee-deep. I flung my arms around in the water in my search for any support but I had no sense of direction. Everything around me was black and my lungs burned. My fingers hit some rocks haphazardly and although I got some cuts and scratches, none were strong enough to hold onto. My vision was slowly fading as the lack of oxygen kept torturing my lungs.
And so desperately, I chose to take one last chance to jump upwards, at least what looked like upwards, and used all my strength. It wasn’t my day to die despite the close brushes with death as I finally emerged from the water. It hurt but I sucked in as much air as I could before the force of the push faded. But this time I didn’t stop moving in the direction of the dry land until I had crawled far away from the rapids going from the waterfall. The pull of the exhaustion was so great that I couldn’t even try to resist. And that was how my
dad found me.”
I return to the present and see that Zach is back on his seat. My breathing is still a little irregular but I guess it would be fine in a few more minutes now. The worst parts are over. “What did you tell him Andy?”
Letting out a pitying laugh, I answered the one spoken and the countless unspoken questions. “Nothing I said would have been reasonable enough for the severe injuries on my back. It had to be kept bandaged for a month. My unbelievable excuse was that I was still sleepy while having a walk near the top of the waterfall and slipped and fell. I hurt my back when a rock jutting out from the waterfall hurt me. I was lucky really that his concern overpowered any other emotion he might have felt. I was grounded for one month but I took it in stride. I too had a promise to keep. I had been lucky that I hadn’t fainted immediately from the pain when I had impulsively jumped into those rapid waters. I would have never made it out alive then. My birthday wasn’t worth the trouble anymore. Nothing was. It was time to quit. And it was my final decision on the matter.”
A bold declaration but one that couldn’t be kept. My mind points out and I feel guilty for breaking my word. If only I had been strong enough then…
“Did no one suspect? And how did you relapse?” Zach asks with a hint of curiosity in his voice though I can’t tell whether it is real or is faked. I guess that being a psychiatrist does train him in faking his own emotions well.
“Some might have spoken a word or two but none of them were even close to the truth and so were quickly forgotten. Things were going on well and I tried so hard to resist the urge. But once the time of three weeks, my standard back then, was over, it was all I could think of. The issue with making final declaration about things is that with time, perspective changes and so the decisions have to be reconsidered. Every single thought of mine would be haunted by the ideas of my next great stunt. I couldn’t even sleep properly when I even dreamed about pulling off some realistically impossible ideas. It was quite an annoyance.
And only three days after these thoughts began, the mess of my emotions began to affect me. I would snap at anyone for no reason at all. It doesn’t matter if my victim had only been breathing, if it annoyed me then I had no hesitation in berating him, or her, even if we were in public. Everyone, including me, was confused by this. I had no idea on why this was happening. Dad was worried about my sudden and early growth into a surly teenager. My friends started to become distant. And then the crash happened.” I pause a moment to take my breath when Zach speaks.
“Crash? What happened?” His voice is now clearly interested. He is also scribbling in his notepad at such a fast speed that I wonder if he will be able to read anything later out of all that he is writing right now. Even I have to believe he isn’t doodling right now.
“It wasn’t a physical crash. It’s what I call that one moment that broke my resolve. I had been watching a movie with my friends in the theatre and there was an intense action scene coming. You know how your heartbeat speeds up in anticipation, how adrenaline flows through your body as if you really are going to be living that action and how you are intensely aware of the entire world around you? I felt it start building within me as well but when the awaited screen started, I crashed. Instead of the pleasure of savouring the anticipation that I should have felt, there was a gaping hole inside me. And what was worse that I didn’t even feel a little bit of panic on this revelation.
Combining it with all the other signs of my emotional impairment, it was obvious that this lack of my ability to feel was the result of not giving in to my brain. And I couldn’t help but remember Ed’s warning. It will dull your normal feelings and you will have an itch for more, he had said. And in that moment, as the crowd around me cheered as how the hero survived once again by foiling his enemies’ plans, I had realized I had become addicted.
When the movie was over, I walked out with my friends, the only one not jumping with excitement over the film. And that sense of loneliness in the familiar crowd was the last straw that broke my resolve. I didn’t want to be alone again. And so I decided to continue these stunts in secret until I would finally be bored of them one day. That day hasn’t arrived yet and I doubt it ever will. Not that breaking my resolve helped that much when all that I had feared did happen.
Three hours after having that realization and deciding to break my word, I was back underneath that waterfall while being hidden in the cover of the night. It was as if being there in a different set of conditions was to try something completely new and I was energized with life once again. Those feelings of anticipation returned and I had laughed in relief. You can never know how freeing it had been to feel again. I was addicted but right then it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except the fact that I had myself again.”
When the silence is all that is left in the room after I finish, Zach prods again. “Was that the only time you tried to quit before?” I mentally sigh as a thought appears. It is as if Zach knows just which buttons to push on me to remind me of my worst memories.
“No.” My voice is a little low than usual but it isn’t any less clear than before. “I tried once again later when Simon had his accident. It had been my fault and after all that happened, I had promised to break free of this, no matter what.”
From Zach’s expression, it is clear that he wants me to continue but there is a knock on the door before his secretary, Angela, enters. “I’m sorry to interrupt but it is 12:40 now and your 12:30 appointment, Mr Carson, is still waiting outside.” I resist a smile at how authoritatively she talks to Zach. It is as if she is the boss here. She shoots me a small smile as she leaves and I respond similarly.
Taking my excuse to leave him now, I stand up and make my point. “I will take my leave now, Dr Collins. Until next time.” I can’t help but be pleased at the slight stiffening of his frame when I refer to him as Dr Collins again. And as I leave his office, I decide that I would keep this up for a few, maybe two, more sessions.
EXTRA: SHARING THE SECRET
“Alright Mrs Robinson. I will talk to you later, okay? Gotta see him now.” I stand up properly now that it is 11:30 and I see his current patient leaving. She looks at me with a smile while dealing with her paperwork and other stuff before greeting Mr Cain as he leaves.
“Andy, just a minute please.” I was just about to go for the office when she calls me. Being already halfway to the door from her desk, I turned around to look at her in confusion. What happened? “Look, I don’t know what happened last week but Zach was really worried after your session. He wouldn’t tell me much – and I couldn’t really force him to share – but he did share that he hadn’t been respectful of your feelings and he looked extremely sorry for that. So I was hoping you could forgive him now.”
The smile I always keep for her momentarily falters as the event in question comes back to my mind. After a week of thinking, I had realized that he hadn’t intended to offend and it was an innocent mistake. So forgiving him had been my only choice. But as she just reminded me about the incident, I also recalled my decision to let him suffer for some time. I suppose one week is enough for him. With a nod and my smile at her, I turned around and walked into the office. Zach, for the first time since my first visit, stands up to greet me as I enter and my decision changes. Okay, forgiveness time at the end of the session.
“How have you been Andy?” He looks normal and he sounds normal. If Angela hadn’t just told me about his worried self, I would not have noticed how his body was just a little stiff. I don’t respond as I take my seat, letting him assume that I am still angry at him. I peek at him from the corner of my vision to see him tense even further. It takes all my resolve to not begin to laugh or give any indication that I am faking this anger.
After almost half a minute has passed, I respond to him in a surly tone. “Just fine, Dr Collins. Just fine.” On the outside I don’t respond to the slight fall of his shoulders in disappointment at my stubbornness to not call him Zach to his face anymore but on the inside I am
relieved that my voice didn’t betray my amusement. But then Zach picks up his notepad and I immediately remember all the talking we did and didn’t in the last session. And the amusement dissipates within seconds.
It is as if the mere thought of that day is more than enough to send me back into my past. I knew what he was going to come up with as the first thing to talk about. So I did the only thing to stop him from bringing up one of my major mistakes for discussion. I stalled him. “After my last session, my desperation and anger to get away hadn’t managed to kick off the memories from taking over me.” I spoke and he swallowed whatever he had been about to speak as he heard me out. “In the fifteen minute walk, all emotions had disappeared. I had become the damaged goods I had always been trying to repair myself from again.
The first thing I did upon getting home was to lock myself in my room. Mom was concerned about this but she also didn’t pry. Over weeks, she had finally begun to accept that there were things I had to process on my own. This type of situation happened especially after stressful sessions and we had gotten quite used to them.
As soon as the door was locked, I stripped off my shirt and looked at my back in the mirror. The scars were still there, as they shall always be, but they had faded quite a lot. And as I ran my fingers across them, all I could think was about that broken promise. So much had happened because I wasn’t strong enough to do what I had promised myself. I had destroyed everything I cared for because I wasn’t willing to suffer through bad choices. The silent tears screamed the apologies I wasn’t strong enough to deliver. And there was only one thing my heart truly wanted. Her.
And so though it wasn’t true to the rule we set of never looking back, though it would get no positive effect on anything, though it won’t change anything, I did the only thing I could. This one selfishness was so powerful that it could have ruined everything I was trying for. I didn’t care. I never was strong enough when it came to resisting her. And so I waited for her to pick up her ringing phone.” I close my eyes now as I remember that moment.
I remember how sweaty my palms were. How much I was shaking. In fear. In anticipation. As the phone kept ringing on her side, I wondered what would be her reaction. Would she be happy to hear from me? Would she be mad? Would she cry? Or would she be indifferent? Would she even take the call? I gave up and was about to hang up when her strong voice came from the other side. “Hello.”
People say heaven is provided after death. People say nothing on Earth compares to even an inch of what heaven could be. I would’ve betted my soul against them in that instant. I froze as the heartbreak I didn’t even know I was nursing began to heal itself. It hurt but it didn’t hurt badly. It was as if her voice had been a gulp of air a drowning man so strongly desires. Her voice had been a band aid on my soul. “Who is this? Hello?” She spoke again with a little annoyance and sanity came back.
I flinched away from the phone in horror at how close I had been to destroying whatever recovery she might have made. I didn’t want to believe anything else and so I had to believe she was recovering too. But that would mean that if I did anything to be recognized, we would be back where we started. And so though we had been on two opposite sides of a call, there was an impenetrable barrier between us. I sighed and was about to hang up when it happened. She recognized me.
“Andy? Is that you?” God that girl recognized me just by my sigh. I prayed to whoever was hearing to bring us together again. And then I did what killed me to do. I hung up on her. The tears that erupted from the freshly wounded heart shook every inch of me and I cried. My mind kept pointing out that she wouldn’t forgive me after I hung up on her. She had sounded so hopeful!
It was a long night. I couldn’t sleep. So all I did was stare at her pictures online. I have always hated ‘Facebook stalking’ but right then, it was the only way to console myself.” I shake my head a little as I remember what I saw in the photos. “It wasn’t much of a consolation. I saw her back among the groups she had always been. She always was a force too powerful to ever be ignored. And so she had been taken in by her social groups once again, despite her involvement with me. In every single photo she smiled. But only I had known where to really look and I am still haunted by the sadness hidden in her eyes. She hurts but puts up a strong front.
It was the power of these photos that made me take another promise. A promise to never contact her again. I need her to move on. That call was a moment of weakness that I will never regret. But it can’t happen again. I thought you should know what happened.” I finally quieten and look at Zach. He looks at me with a strange look on his face and I squirm a little. What happened?
“Did you catch something major while you told me about this?” Zach slowly asks and I raise my eyebrow, wondering what he is getting into. “The call, Andy. You just said that you felt nothing when you got home but just from the thought of Kylie, you felt fear, anticipation, happiness, horror, regret and sadness. From your journal too, I noticed how you held her as you potential cure. I have a feeling you were right. You might have to break another promise but it will only help you.” There is shock numbing everything inside me as I understand what he is saying. Everything he is saying is true. You should just accept it. And the fact is that I have. I just don’t know what to do with it.
“I want to be with her again.” I confess. “But I can’t. I can’t bear if she has to go through social isolation because of me. She won’t tell me but I have a feeling that’s what will happen in the end. And even if I try, her parents won’t agree. They judged me too, if I didn’t make it clear. They won’t let their daughter be with someone like me. Hell, in their position, even I wouldn’t. Not even if us being together could cure cancer. For them, a ‘we’ would heartbreak and destroyed life for her is waiting to happen when I just slide away too far from her.” It is as much as a reminder of why I can’t as it is an explanation of why I can’t. Kylie doesn’t deserve a damaged me. She deserves the best there is.
“Does she want the best? Or does she just want you as you are? Some sessions ago, you yourself believed that she didn’t love you. Now you believe she did. Let the fear of being judged by her fade, Andy. Do you think she loves you? That she loved you?” Zach asks in response to the words I didn’t realize I spoke aloud. I think hard about it but there is no doubt within me on what her answer would have been.
“She would have taken me, however I was, but I can’t go back to her like this. And that is my final decision. Nothing you can say will change my mind and you better not even try to contact her or have her contacted.” There is a moment of silence as the declaration settles deep within both of us and the part of me that desperately craves her weeps in pain.
Finally, with a quarter of an hour already spent, Zach clears his throat and starts over. “Alright Andy. There’s enough catching up done. Let’s talk about what we were supposed to last time. You said you tried to quit once more but failed after Simon’s accident. Would you tell me all about what happened?”
I have no idea at all how to word what he just said in a better way but I am pretty sure that isn’t how I would have liked it to be. That request could be substituted for ‘I want you to rip off your painful band aids of the past mistakes’.
“Among our group in Witchbury Falls, everyone was close to one another and knew which secrets to never leak. They were also quite respectful of wishes for privacy. My entire group knew that I had some ‘secret stuff’ that I couldn’t give up. There were theories, from simple embarrassing yoga to ridiculous alien abductions, but none had ever even guessed anywhere close. But we had Simon in our group as well. He was always the quieter one among us, even though he was supposed to be loud and obnoxious like Luke and … Jacob.” My voice momentarily falters as I remember him. The truth is that all three were my abusers but I had met and trusted Jacob first and his indifference had hurt. “There was always a desire to satisfy his curiosity and when we were all fifteen, he decided that my ‘secret stuff’ was the curiosity he wa
nted to know. He began following me with the excuse of some reason or other. It wasn’t obvious to me at first but when I realized that I kept seeing him everywhere I went, I knew he was onto me. I mean, he was my stalker. When I was driving, he would be tailing me. If I was shopping, I knew he would be around, hiding just out of sight. Most of the times I wouldn’t even know he was there when I would get a feeling of being watched. It went like that for almost two weeks and I knew my time was over. My ability to hold out against it had become mere thirteen days now. Anger clawed within me as he kept me from getting my fix. There wasn’t really a choice to be made but I couldn’t control the urges any longer.
And on the night of the thirteenth day, a desperate idea came to me. Creating a fake identity, I created a blog and posted about the first daredevil act of mine: the walking into the waterfall on slippery rocks. I went through the post a thousand times, trying to see for any clues that I might have left which would risk my identity. But unless he tried to find the exact IP of the fake identity, I was safe. And then the next morning, I struggled really hard not to make things too easy or suspicious for him as I ‘stumbled’ upon my post while surfing the web on his phone. And then came the moment that could do it all. I acted the best I ever have.
I took a small gasp as I ‘read’ the post and then quickly darted my eyes up and around to see if anyone was noticing me. Simon hadn’t really been noticing but he noticed my slightly exaggerated tells and I felt his eyes as I quickly hid it from view and closed the page. The last part that could ensure him of my fear was the unsuccessful attempt to delete the history. I handed him the phone just before clearing it and acted for an instant that I was relieved on deleting history before joining other’s conversation. From the corner of my vision though, I saw him look at the page and I knew he had taken the bait.
I made the usual excuse of ‘secret stuff’ for the evening and left for the waterfall, being completely aware of his car following me. As I reached my destination, I took my shirt and shoes off before walking into the waterfall.” I pause my narration to speak directly to Zach. “I never tried the same stunt again ever except that one time. The situation was different and I guess that is what truly helped. I no longer wondered which parent to choose in there. I had wondered if I really want to come open to them all. For the only time in my life, I didn’t get a proper answer. All I got was an advice to wait and see how Simon would respond to this before confessing.” I pause another moment and then settle back into what happened. What I hadn’t realized as a possibility.
“Simon arrives just as I finished dressing again. In that one instant, a strange fear took over me and I felt the urge to hide from him. His eyes were bright with knowledge and as he walked towards me, there were thousands of things, most which I didn’t even realize, staring back at me. But I did know one thing with certainty: He knew.
‘So this is your secret stuff, is it Jonah?’ He had asked casually and I had the urge to flinch. Never before he had called me by my first name and I feel there is a huge distance between us. ‘This daredevil stuff? Are you addicted to it, Jonah? Because I have a feeling you do. Over the years, your time delays have been decreasing and then there are all the mysterious wounds you turn up with.’ Then he paused for a moment as he walked to the waterfall behind and continued. ‘This is where it all began, isn’t it? How did it start? Who taught you?’
My insides had felt like they were about to be set on fire but I tried a casual voice to laugh off his accurate theories. ‘You really need to stop reading detective novels. You are way out of line. My secret stuff is secret for a reason. Leave that alone. That post was exciting and the temptation to try it was irresistible. What you choose to see from this is your choice.
Leave my secret stuff alone Simon. I have to get ready for my date with Kylie now. I like her and I really want our first date to go well. So don’t start anything that you can’t control once you realize that you made assumptions without all the fact, Sherlock. Now, I – wait, what are you doing?’ I screamed at him as I saw him undress as well.
‘Testing my theory, Jonah. And your explanation. I must see why it was so tempting.’ Simon says as he drops his shirt and begins to take off his shoes. It is not until he takes off his socks that my shock finally wears off and I remember something urgent.
‘Keep the shoes on, Simon. The rocks are too slippery. And I know you can’t swim.’ I shout back at him and he gives me a rebellious smile at me. ‘Didn’t the article emphasize the need to be in a scary situation?’ He quotes and I immediately remind him. ‘No, the article said the fear situation had to be controlled. By not being able to swim, you aren’t helping yourself.’
‘And there is the truth. You used terminology that the writer only hinted: fear situation. Still not going to accept? Make your choice. I will be underneath that waterfall.’ I am once again paralysed in my position but not by shock this time. It’s fear controlling me. And by the time, I come out of it, it’s too late. Simon has slipped.
‘ANDY! HELP!’ He screams from the water just before his head goes under and I barely kick my shoes off before jumping in the water. I always learned that while swimming, water was just a loose extension of ours. In those moments, it was my arch-enemy and I couldn’t see a thing around me. The rush of the water silenced any of his screams and I tried to focus to see if there was any chance I could see his form around. The pool of water at the base of the fall was very deep and I quickly swam around while looking for him to cover as much area as possible. Just when I was about to get back to the surface for more air, I saw him still at the base of the pool among the weeds.
My lungs burned but I didn’t leave the water until I had him. It took CPR and an ambulance to get all the water out. Everyone was worried at this ‘accident’ in which he slipped from the rocks while trying to sit on them. He didn’t wake up for an entire day. I prayed to whoever listened and promised everything I could. I promised to stop driving – a gift from father and town for me being an ideal kid - until I was sixteen, I promised to stop wasting my time and concentrate on studies, etc. It was as if the heaven’s desire to make me promise to stop because as soon as the words left my mouth, he woke up.
He was terrified of water. He couldn’t even stand the sight of water in a glass or his IV drip. He was lost now. The smart but silent kid seemed to have been left behind in the pool while a scared kid took his body. Till the minute I left Witchbury Falls, he hasn’t fully recovered. His days of investigations are over. But he never told my secret. Because I told him of my promise. And he believed me. Or maybe it was my guilt he believed. But he kept his silence on my involvement.”
“What happened to the blog post?” Zach asks and his sudden distraction from my confession momentarily confuses me. Then as the fog clears, I respond to him. “It was removed an hour after Simon woke up. The account deleted. And I prayed that no one else ever read that.”
“The first month was all well. The urge was there but I suppressed it. It wasn’t easy but I did it for my promise. I already had broken the promise once and I wasn’t going to do so again. Five years had passed and still I had been as naïve as ever. I suspect I always will be but that doesn’t matter right now. It was another fortnight later that the urge started affecting me. I hid it but I could not hide it for long. Kylie, whom I had been seeing for almost a month now, caught it first and then Kevin did. A strange sensation of laziness came over me and I recognised the signs. The depression was rearing its ugly head again.
I should have quit. Gotten some therapy for my guilt and healed. But the fear of being ridiculed was too high. And so I had relapsed once again. I took my car for a night ride and drove on the straight empty road at full throttle without even touching the breaks and finished it with a 180 degree turn that overturned the car three times. The airbags saved me but the deed was done. My promises were broken and I was well again.”
I finish and silently look at Zach while he scribbles stuff down. There is a long silence in waiti
ng, even though it must be only seconds that I spend staring at my own work for him. And in my mind, there is a clash. Like, was that really me with Simon that day and the same me did that painting as well? I don’t know if the treatment works or not but I feel that for so long I was just watching a movie and I finally woken up. Most of the details are blurring but I still remember the overall theme. If I hadn’t lived it, I wouldn’t believe it.
“Andy, what do you now think of that incident when you look back to that day?” Zach asks and ‘guilt’ is right at the tip of my tongue when I pause. He never asks questions that are obvious to answer. And so I think of what I really feel instead of what I always felt. And its sadness.
“I feel sadness. So much of our hormones and lies controlled us that we ignored the danger. I didn’t want him to know the truth, even though he did at that point. And he was just being too cocky to prove that he was as good as me when it came to being a daredevil and ignored my warnings. I feel sad that it happened, that we didn’t trust each other enough but the residual guilt is still here. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but one day, someday, I won’t feel any guilt about it.”
“Very good.” Zach commends me and I feel a little bit more of the guilt fade away. It is clear that he supports what I think and it helps a fragile part of me that seeks his approval. I decide that he has earned my forgiveness now since he had a valid reason to be judgemental but he wasn’t and that is a major good point for him in my mind. “Simon, as from your journals, hasn’t let go of the fact that in the end, he still blames you for what happened. There’s nothing really you can do for him because only he himself can make peace with all that truly happened.”
There is a pause and I know he is wondering. Twice I have sat in this chair and recounted how I lapsed. I smile at him. “I haven’t lapsed, Dr Collins. This time, I intend to hold my word close to me. After all, I do have you to help me. You and my mom and dad and all my friends.”
As soon as I finish, Angela knocks again and my eyes directly wander to the clock. It’s time to leave. She enters just as I stand up and I give both of them a smile as I pass Angela, who has paused upon seeing that I am already leaving, and I greet them both.
“Goodbye, Zach. Goodbye, Angela.”
Angela responds in kind with a glee in her voice while there is no response from Zach. And I smile at getting the last word in as I leave back to home. Tomorrow is a new day. A perfect time for a new beginning.
Tomorrow is the time when I tell my friends about everything.
EXTRA: COMING OUT
You’ve got to do this. You promised this to yourself and Zach. You owe them this.
They don’t know anything. Lie to Zach. Bury your guilt. Never let them know. People can’t really accept it. You already saw this once. Don’t go through this again.
The bell rings as I open the door to Shay’s café, our regular hangout. Honestly I wonder how I heard the bell ring with the screams my heart makes against the ribs. I look around as I search for them and the fear is paralyzing. The place is packed with folks from school. I can’t do this. It is as if fates want me to do this. Because just as my eyes finish the sweep, I spot the entire group sitting on one of the side tables. They are all in some sort of discussion and just as I begin to turn around to leave, Simon looks up and spots me. The grin he gives me is a little uncomfortable – well, since he told us that he hasn’t a reason to smile ever before meeting us, it’s understandable – but it is enough to get the attention of the rest of the group. I’m pretty sure that my expression is one of a deer caught in the headlights but I can’t really control it as thousands of thoughts go through my mind.
I can’t do this. This place is so full. What if someone overhears? What if they don’t like who I was before? Would they like who I really am? Will this be the last time they would smile at me? Why is this place so full? I think I’m going to puke. Can I still make an escape? Do I really want to?
My mind is a mess and I realize that if I don’t control them, I would be having a panic attack in front of everyone. Which is why I decide to tackle the worries I can take care of. “Guys, can we go someplace quiet? I need to talk and I can’t do it with all these people.” I gesture with my hands at the rest of the customers. The greeting smiles fade a little from their faces as confusion takes over.
“Hey, Jonah, everything okay?” Peter asks and I quickly shake my head in negative.
“Not here, guys. Can we go anywhere else please?” I croak out and worry emerges on their faces as well. Well, on everyone except Simon’s, but we really are used to him masking his emotions. He says he has always been trying to hide them just to see if he could. A lousy excuse but whatever. His mask had clearly fallen off whenever he was with Claire though. Also, that reminds me. “Where is Claire?”
“Let’s go Andy.” Sam says and all of them begin to leave while Simon informs us that Claire was still hurting over her father’s death and would not be coming out for a few more days. The nerves in my stomach still want me to hurl but I keep telling myself that it will all be fine. But even I don’t know if that’s true.
The drive over to the Olympic Sculpture Park is full of tension. We gather at our usual picnic spot hidden deep in the park and as soon as everyone arrives, Melissa snaps at me. “Alright, Peters. What is it? You have us all half-worried to death.”
I take a deep breath and look around at all the concerned faces around me. And I wonder. How bad could it be? So as I release it, I try to speak at a normal speed and not rush the words out. “I have an addiction.”
There is silence before John asks. “So?” And I take in their expressions. The worry is now gone but the curiosity is stronger than before. “What is it? What’s the addiction? Alcohol, Cocaine, Weed… what is it?” Melissa asks and I can already guess that how she will be my sponsor for the 12-step programme.
“Calm down Melissa. I haven’t told you guys everything.” I say and I look around for some comfort. And Simon, though he stands a little apart from the rest of us, gives me an encouraging smile. I take a deep breath and continue. “To get what I mean by my addiction, you need to understand my past.” There is a serious urge to break eye contact and just say it out loud but I resist. Why? I don’t know.
“Ever since I have been six years old, I have had this addiction.” The pleasure of seeing all their eyes widen in shock is a momentary relief. “I never could make a choice. Never could be sure enough that it was what I really wanted.” I pause to take a breath so as to calm the trembling tone in my voice. “Everyone has to make choices and I didn’t want to regret my choices like some people did, wondering if it would have been better to have chosen the other thing. You know, the road not taken.” I stop as I realize I am rambling and making excuses for what I did. They need to know me as I am, not how I present me in a slightly-better way.
“On the day of my parents’ divorce, I met a man who told me just how to make these choices.” I close my eyes and as clearly as the day that we met, I can see him. I never found out who he was, where he was from or what he was choosing. But I know that he was real. I hope he didn’t share my fate. “All of you have seen my painting ‘Fear To Live For’ right?”
All of them nod and I see the complete truth dawn in their eyes almost immediately after. And immediately, their mouths drop open in shock. I nod at the unspoken question between us and continue. “That was just the beginning. By the time I was 10, I was so dangerously addicted that I nearly died. I still have the scars on my back, remember them? That’s when I tried to quit. I ended up depressed. And then started again.”
Control your guilt. Remember what Zach told you. “It was all under control, as much as it could be controlled, until one of my friend figured it out. I foolishly tried to teach him as well but he ended up scarred for life. He still has troubles with water and swimming is no longer an option for him. I believed that was my fault for so long. It still is but he isn’t blameless either. And then, eight months ago, through well-
intentioned but foolish friends, this came out in the public.” And then I let them piece things together. The stares and glares and the innuendos from the teachers. The whispers in the school corridors who looked back at my past. The newspaper articles that school re-published.
“Do… Do you still act on the addiction?” Tyler slowly asks in an emotionless voice and I feel a sadness well from deep within. He won’t be a friend anymore. I look around and see the question in all the eyes. Well, except one.
“No, he doesn’t.” Simon steps forward and announces and everyone looks at him in shock. I see the wariness (Did he know already?), the suspicion (Is he one too?) and more in the eyes of the others. Simon sees them too but doesn’t respond. “Don’t you guys remember how he was before? He was depressed. You haven’t tried it again since you were caught, were you?” I meekly nod as everyone’s eyes return to me and he continues. “Are you seeing a psychiatrist?”
How does he know? I guess he does pay attention while in silence. “Yes. Since the very next day I got here. Zach has been very helpful. There have been good days and there have been bad days. But no, I haven’t relapsed. Yet.” At their suddenly confused expressions, I explain my answer. “Addictions can’t be beaten permanently, guys. I will always have the danger of relapsing.”
“Is this why you told us? To tell us that we might find out you are dead one day so that we understand?” John asks in anger and I flinch. It’s happening again. I am about to apologize and say that I will never talk to them again if it helps when Melissa grabs my arm.
“You idiot! He’s reaching out for help, not warning us of his impending death.” She scolds him and then turns to me. “You are in so much trouble that you cannot imagine. How dare you keep something like this from us? We are your friends. We all know about most of your past Andy. It's kind of hard not to snoop into you when you already had such great reception by that Snow on the first day. Still…” Her voice trails off. Then, she adds with pointed glares towards Samuel and John.
“Yeah we understand what you are trying but it doesn’t mean that we are completely okay with it. You need to give us time to think more about it.” Others, even Mel, nod with him. Honestly, I would be worried if they were fine with it all instantly.
“So…” Mel speaks and I control a groan and shiver. It’s her excited tone. “… what exactly did you do?”
“Melissa!” All of us shout and she winces.
“All right! All right! I won’t try them. I promise. But please, tell me what things you tried.” She asks and I have to sigh. She’s gone into ‘super-persistent’ mode and there is no escaping it. Even if I try to let her down now and somehow succeed, she will pester me and make my life a hell (in a good way, of course) in order to find out.
“Any chance that you would let this drop?” Alex asks and the rest of us try to not to laugh at the death glare she points at him. He actually takes a step back as if it would help. “I would take that as a no, then.” He mumbles and I can’t help the laugh from escaping my mouth.
The death glare turns to me and although I am terrified of what she might do, I point out calmly to her. “We’re gonna need blankets. This is going to be a long discussion. And I need you all to stay. Don’t talk to me if you don’t want to. Don’t even listen to us if it helps. But if it is the last time we all will be here before breaking apart because of me, I want to extend it as long as we can.”
Melissa stills (and probably stops breathing as well) and then, to my horror, her anger erupts. “Andrew Jonah Peters! How dare you? We don’t choose friends to drop later as per convenience. We are friends for life. Deal with it. Yes, this is a major bump in that friendship but we will all stick together. Or I will set fire to the deserter’s car.” Melissa adds that last line while glaring at all of us. I swallow a gulp, as I suspect others do as well, at her threat. Unlike others, she does go through with her threat but you will never find one evidence of it. She’s, sadly for the possible deserters and good for me, a genius devil. “So what did you do?” She asks again and I wonder if I thought favourably of her too soon.
“Promise not to even think about trying?” I ask her completely seriously and she nods quickly. Too quickly. I clear my throat and her gaze narrows. It is the first time her glare fails on me. “Promise.” I repeat and finally accepting that someone did withstand her glare and wasn’t giving up, she promises.
“Tell her to promise not to keep stealing treats from me.” Peter pipes up and I almost burst out laughing. Most of the others turn away with their shoulders shaking in silent laughter when Mel turns to glare at him.
“You are so going to buy me a huge dinner at the costliest place on Earth, Peter. Mark my words. I will get my treat. I promise that. You happy?” Poor Peter has paled so much that he might as well be a vampire. He barely nods before she turns back to me. “Come on, Peters. Out with them already.”
And so I tell them. About the walking into the waterfall on a new moon. About suspending myself to the base of dad’s car while he went to church and hurting myself. About reckless driving with brakes disabled (hey, I had airbags for safety), about bungee-jumping the car, about standing on the tallest tree while heavy winds tried to blow me away. And many more.
We came here before noon but it is sundown by the time I am done narrating all of my stunts since I was six. Melissa has been sworn thrice that she wouldn’t do anything that I did and the guys swore twice that they wouldn’t try something they felt was ‘cool’. When it was your neck on the line, nothing was cool. Nothing was worth it. Just to scare them off of trying them, I told them some of the stories of how the town treated me once my secret was out.
“Wow” Tyler breathes in awe once I finally finish. “You really were imaginative when you put your mind to be a daredevil. To think of how you would have been if you had been here all this time…”
Danger alert! “Then I would have either been caught or dead. There isn’t a lot to do in here without either of the two happening. That small town had some perks, like being able to keep things secret if you really tried.”
“Alright guys, I have to go. I need to check on Claire. And I’m hungry.” Simon says and then points at me while others laugh, reminding us all that I pulled them out for the confession while they were in that café to eat.
“My treat then.” I announce and that seems to re-energize everyone. Everyone keeps shouting destinations before they settle on one. And before I know it, most of them are already gone. Only Simon, me and Tyler are left and even Simon leaves to call Claire.
It is then I notice Tyler’s stiff body and realize that I haven’t explained my behaviour to him. As he begins to walk away to join the rest, my mind screams at me. Stop him. Tell him. Apologize. Now I don’t know about the rest but apologies don’t come easily to me. Anger outbursts? I can do that very well. But apologies? That makes me speechless.
By the time I do accept that I need to clear the air between us, Tyler is already quite far away. Don’t let him just go. My brain, annoyingly in Zach’s voice warns me. He still doesn’t get why you act towards him like you do. Make it clear to him. Or he will forever resent you for it.
“Hey Tyler! Wait a minute.” I call out to him while signalling the rest to go ahead. I have taken care of the rest but he deserves more. His entire body is stiff and though his face shows surprise, he also looks uncomfortable here. “Man, you guys know almost the entire story but there is one part that I cannot share with them before sharing with you.”
His yellow eyes seem to pin me to my ground as I try to give him a proper apology. “In Witchbury Falls, I had a group of friends. Aside from my girlfriend Kylie, my best-friend Kevin and the secret blower Luke, the rest turned into bullies once the secret was out. One of my first friends and the football team quarterback was Jacob Andrews.”
His expression begins to relax as he realizes what I am trying to say. “It was bad. That is all I will share about what he did. Even the mention of his name terrified me. And you h
ad the same first name as him. I’m so sorry, Tyler, but I just couldn’t relax around you. I always feared that if I trust a Jacob again, he would betray it again. But that is not the truth. I do trust you and what I did to you wasn’t fair at all. I will try to control myself and show the respect you deserve, not the fear your namesake generated in me.” Once the rush of words is over and all that is left is silence, I can only think of how awkward it was to get it all out. Whoever said that guys can’t express emotions (Mel did) was true. Getting those words out was hard. I hope I never have to do so again.
“Why didn’t you act guilty around Layweigh?” He asks and I find the fact slightly surprising as well. And then I nearly jump out of my skin when a voice comes out from behind me.
“He has acted guilty around me, Jacob.” Simon points out as he comes out from behind a tree trunk. Was he hiding there for our private talk all along? “He has always given my opinions a preference. I’m sure you noticed that. Others did. Melissa even confronted me about it.” I look back at my actions if I really have been giving him a preferential treatment and I realize that I have. “So are we good?”
He asks and I turn to Tyler for his answer. It is a torturous wait before he smiles.
“Andy, you took me away from my food. You are going to buy me whatever I want.”
Everything’s okay, then.