Date: Sat, 4 May 2013 10:44:46 -0700 From: B.E. Kelley Subject: The Peace Within Chapter 14 This story is a work of FICTION. The events described are my own invention. Any similarities to actual events or persons are strictly coincidental. The author retains the copyright, and any other rights, to this original story. You may not publish it or any part of it without my explicit authorization. This story contains depictions of consensual sexual acts between teenage males. It is intended for mature audiences only. If you find this type of material offensive or if you are under the legal age to read said material; please proceed no further. Comments are always welcome at: hailcaesar2011@hotmail.com The Peace Within Chapter 14 Suicide Watch, Day 2. I didn't wake to the sound of Noah's ball that morning, somehow I slept through that. Instead I woke to find Noah standing over me, poking my body with a yardstick as though I were a bloated corpse on the side of the road. "Quit poking me," I groaned. "But it's 8:25 and you woke up earlier yesterday and then you had to change clothes and that took time and we could have been late for breakfast and then I wouldn't have gotten my Raisin Bran and I would have had to pick something else and I might not have gotten my normal seat..." Noah rambled, I decided it was easier to get up then listen to him go on and on. "Ok, I'm up, let me get dressed," I yawned. "Quickly, quickly," Noah urged, as he hopped back onto his bed and watched me fumble through my bag for clean clothes. This time I made sure to pull a pair of black boxerbriefs from my bag in the hopes of avoiding more talk of Noah's boner, sadly that was not the case. "Oh good, your other underwear were giving me a boner," said Noah, while I pulled up my undies. "Why were my underwear making you stiff?" I asked. "I'm not gay," said Noah. "I didn't ask if you were," I reminded him. "Hurry, it's 8:27 now, my Raisin Bran..." he began. "Alright, alright, I'm dressed," I stated, in exasperation as I pulled on my track pants and fresh t-shirt, "you could go to breakfast without me you know?" "But, you're my roommate," said Noah. "Ok, come on, let's get you your Raisin Bran," I replied. Noah bounded out the door as quickly as he could, while skipping over every crack in the tile. I simply rolled my eyes and followed him to the dining room. When I took my seat, Noah counted his raisins and I guess he was satisfied with the number, he didn't get up and demand more this time. I found Noah's quirks to be as fascinating as they were annoying but they didn't hold my attention that morning, I was looking for Darren. Darren never turned up for breakfast and my search was interrupted by the arrival of Greg. "Mind if I sit with you guys this morning?" asked Greg. "But then there will be three of us and it's a table for four," said Noah. "Excuse my roommate, the mathematician, of course you can sit down," replied. Greg took his seat and Noah fidgeted nervously in his. Noah clearly has obsessive compulsive disorder, he doesn't talk about it, it's like he doesn't see anything wrong. Most of his quirks are kind of funny but some are obviously debilitating and make it hard to function in the real world. Noah isn't on suicide watch, he was admitted by his parents, in the hope the doctors would be able to help him. "So, did you sleep good last night?" asked Greg. "Not bad actually," I replied. "That's good, you need your rest," said Greg. "I haven't been sleeping well lately, nightmares," I admitted. "Rest is important to any kind of recovery, your body needs it," Greg explained. "Yeah," I agreed, I felt tired a lot because while you may be asleep when you dream, you're not really resting. "Say, do you know where I can find that boy, Darren?" I asked. "What do you want with him?" asked Greg, casually eating his cereal. "I don't want to hurt him," I stated. "No?" asked Greg. "I want to apologize for yesterday, you were right, it wasn't his fault," I replied. "Well, I'm glad you see it that way, unfortunately I don't know where to find him, he usually keeps to himself," Greg explained. "Well, I guess I'll keep looking after breakfast," I sighed. "Sounds like a plan, now let me check your dressings, I have fresh ones for you," said Greg. "But you're a patient, should you be..." I started. "I told you I was a nurse, they let me help out with things like this," Greg explained. "Ok," I nodded and held out my wrists. Greg carefully unwrapped my dressings and examined the wounds, they still looked angry and red to me but they were dry and didn't look infected. Noah looked up from his Raisin Bran and started counting my stitches. "...sixteen, seventeen, eighteen..." Noah rambled. "Must you do that?" I asked. "Sorry," Noah blushed and looked away. That was different, normally when I asked questions like that about his counting, he simply said "yes," and looked at me like I'd asked the dumbest question in the world. Instead, Noah was looking at my wounds as though he was about to throw up, some people can't handle the sight of blood and gore, I know, I'm one of them. When I was 14, I thought I wanted to follow in my father's footsteps and be a doctor, dad was excited about my interest so he arranged for me to shadow a friend of his who had a surgical practice. Twenty minutes into my afternoon with Dr. Ryan, I was passed out on the exam room floor and all he'd done was drain an infected boil. When Noah couldn't take it anymore, he made an excuse to leave the table, then skipped out of the dining room. "Thanks," I said, as Greg redressed my wounds. "You're very welcome, how are you doing otherwise?" he asked. "Better than I thought I'd be doing, one of my good friends, a guy I really trust, came by yesterday, we had a good talk," I replied. "That's good, have you spoken to any of the doctors?" asked Greg. "No, no one's really made an effort to talk to me," I explained. "That's because you're only here for 72 hours, they usually lets patients on suicide watch come to them if they feel like talking, rather than try to force it on them. They know you need help but you have to be ready for it and most people aren't ready so soon after an attempt," Greg stated. "Then what's the point of being here?" I asked. "They're watching you, making sure you're not a danger to yourself, they're petty discreet about it," said Greg. "I guess that's cool, I've kinda felt like I was getting a bit of a break, I feel pretty relaxed." "That's good, you need to relax, easier to get better if you're nice and calm," said Greg. "Yeah, anyway, thanks for taking care of my dressings, I'm going to go look for Darren," I replied. "No problem, another game of chess, after dinner?" asked Greg. "Sure," I smiled, "I have a few tricks up my sleeve that I haven't tried yet." "Tricks are something whores do for money, chess is about skill," said Greg. I turned back and studied the serious look on his face, then he started to chuckle. I rolled my eyes and turned back towards the exit, but I was smiling when I entered the hall. Before I could look for Darren I had to stop by the nurse's station and pick up my meds, when I got there, she said I had a visitor and handed me my paper cup and some water. I figured it was Peter but when I didn't see his bodyguards outside the door to the visitors room, I wondered who it could be. I'd forgotten that Dr. Kitridge was coming and was surprised to see him when I walked in. "Good morning, Parker, you seem to be in a better mood then I would have expected," said Dr. Kitridge, noting my smile. "Oh, one of the guys said something funny at breakfast is all," I replied. "I spoke with your father, he brought me up to speed on what's taken place, I'm sorry to say I wasn't surprised," said Dr. Kitridge, he was looking at my wrists. I pulled my sleeves down self-consciously, then took the chair across from him. "You thought I was going to hurt myself?" I asked, "why didn't you say anything?" "I didn't think you'd go to this extent, but I'm very concerned. I've suspected for a while that you've been keeping things from me, your father says you've been holding back," said Dr. Kitridge, "I really want to help you, Parker." "Is your pencil sharp?" I asked, I saw his pencil and notepad sitting on the table. "I'm sorry?" he asked, confused. "No doc, I'm the one that's sorry. I have been holding back, I know you've told me I need to talk about things and you were right, I didn't listen and look what happened to me," I sighed, "what I'm getting at is, if you're ready to start taking notes, I'm ready to unburden myself." He looked at me as though he were pleased that I'd seen the light, then he picked up his pencil and pad. "Where would you like to begin?" asked Dr. Kitridge. "It's best to begin at the beginning, isn't it?" I stated. "Tell me about THAT day," said Dr. Kitridge. "It actually began the day before, you see, I wasn't feeling well and I stopped by the drugstore to pick up some cough drops..." I started. I told him everything, my encounter with Derek Carter, taking Patton's call the morning he died, everything, every detail. When I was finished, my cheeks were stained with tears, as I expected them to be, but there was also this light feeling, like something heavy had been lifted from my shoulders. I'd felt that way after talking to Peter, the day before, I figured I'd feel a little lighter the more I talked about it, the more I let go. "All this time, you've been blaming yourself for Patton's death," said Dr. Kitridge. "Yes," I sniffled and nodded. "Parker, you're a very smart boy, you must know that there was nothing you could have done to prevent any of this. These events were set in motion by Derek Carter and Ronald Warner, there is nothing that you, Parker Westergaard, could have done to change things," said Dr. Kitridge. "If I'd just gone to school that day..." I started. "You said you were sick, did you invite the germs into your body?" asked Dr. Kitridge. "Well, no, of course not," I replied, curious to see where he was going with this. "And your father, he's a doctor, a very competent pediatrician, correct?" "Yeah, he's an excellent doctor," I replied. "He examined you that morning?" "Yeah, before he left for work, he told me I needed to stay in bed and get some rest," I explained. "So you contracted a virus you didn't ask for, you were seen by your father, a doctor you acknowledge to be a skilled professional and he ordered bed rest, but you still think there is something you could have done to make things different?" asked Dr. Kitridge. "Are you saying I should blame my dad?" I bristled. "Not at all, you were sick, he loves you and treated you to the best of his knowledge," said Dr. Kitridge, "the point I'm making is that none of you had any control over what happened, events present themselves and we have to adapt to them, that's life." "I understand that, I think I always have, it's logical and I consider myself a logical person, but it's one thing to know something in your mind and feel it in your heart," I explained. "You're right about that, survivors often feel a sense of guilt after a tragedy like this, it's natural and for most of them, it passes as they grieve. In your case, you've internalized that guilt, held on to it like some kind of security blanket, rather than let it go," said Dr. Kitridge. "I'm trying, I told Marshall about it a little, and I told Peter everything yesterday, I felt better after doing that and I feel better today, telling you," I explained. "That's a good sign Parker, I think you've finally passed into the stage where you're able to start letting go," said Dr. Kitridge. "I hurt myself, that was a real eye opener, I don't want to die, I have a lot to live for," I sighed. "Sometimes you have to hit bottom before you can start putting the pieces back together," said Dr. Kitridge, "do you know what the next step in your recovery should be?" "I have to tell my parents about Patton's call," I replied. "Yes, he was there son, they deserve to know, it's what Patton wanted," said Dr. Kitridge. "I know I have to tell them, I came to that realization when I woke up in the hospital, I just want to do it away from here, somewhere I feel comfortable," I explained. "That's ok, the point is you know what you need to do, it doesn't mean you have to do it today, tomorrow or even next week, but sooner is better. You've kept it secret all this time because that's what the guilt told you you needed to do. Opening up will set you free," Dr. Kitridge smiled. "I'm going to do it, I think I know how and when, I just have to get out of here," I replied. "You'll be going home tomorrow, I spoke with the psychiatric resident, he's been observing you and doesn't think you'll make another attempt. He'll release you on schedule," said Dr. Kitridge. "Derek Carter's brother is here," I said, out of the blue, I knew what I needed to do with mom and dad, I didn't know how long Dr. Kitridge was going to stay with me and this suddenly felt important. "What?" asked Dr. Kitridge, somewhat taken aback. "His name's Darren, I saw him at breakfast yesterday," I stated. "Do you know why he's here?" "No, I, uh, almost hit him," I blushed. "Parker..." said Dr. Kitridge. "I didn't, another patient stopped me and it was kind of like how I felt after I cut my wrists, when it was over, I knew it was wrong," I explained. "I don't know why he's here, I can only speculate but, his brother did something terrible, how would you feel if you were in his shoes, if it was Patton that had killed all those people instead," said Dr. Kitridge. "I'd feel guilty, like it was my fault because I didn't stop it, didn't see it coming," I replied. "That's probably how this boy feels," said Dr. Kitridge. "I know, I sense that, I want to apologize to him but I haven't seen him since," I stated. "I think it would be healthy for you, if you forgave him. As one of his brother's victims, your forgiveness might go a long way in his recovery too," said Dr. Kitridge. "I'm ready to open up and talk about things but Doc, I can't, I won't forgive Derek, not for what he did," I stated. "And you don't have to, he took something very precious from you, you're entitled to your anger, but Parker, his brother is just as innocent as yours was, you can forgive him," said Dr. Kitridge. "I don't know about that, I mean it sounds right and as I said, I want to apologize for what happened yesterday, that's like forgiveness, isn't it?" "It's a start," said Dr. Kitridge, as he started to close his notebook. "Um, you might not want to do that yet," I stated. "More you want to say?" asked Dr. Kitridge. "Uh, yeah, a lot," I nodded. "I've got time," Dr. Kitridge smiled. "Well, I'm gay," I blurted out. "I know," said Dr. Kitridge. "You do?" I asked. "You remember telling me about Patton's girlfriend?" said Dr. Kitridge. "Kelsey, yeah." "You may not have been aware of it at the time but some of the things you said led me to that conclusion," said Dr. Kitridge. "Wow, why didn't you say anything then?" I asked. "How would you have reacted if I told you that you were a homosexual?" said Dr. Kitridge. "I-I don't know, I'd have probably gotten mad, maybe even left," I replied. "Exactly, it' something you needed to discover for yourself," said Dr. Kitridge. "I guess you're right, I met someone special and, well, it just feels right. I've been on dates with girls and it always felt, I don't know, strange," I explained. "Who is the special someone, Marshall or Peter?" asked Dr. Kitridge. "Wow, you have been paying attention," I giggled, "it's Marshall." "I thought it would be one of the two, you mentioned both as people you first opened up to, I figured they must be very close to you, it makes sense that one of them would be THE one," said Dr. Kitridge, "how do you feel about this discovery?" "It's ok, I really like Marshall, I love him, but it's not perfect, there's one more thing I have to tell you about," I began. "Go on," said Dr. Kitridge. "I know why it's taken me so long to figure out I'm gay, why I've have some sexual hang ups. See, the other day, Marshall and I were making out on his couch and I kinda flipped out, I got scared and made him stop. I was so upset, he's so sweet and I hurt his feelings and I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me, but see, while he was kissing me, he started touching me and well, his touch triggered a memory," I explained. "You're talking about a repressed memory, something you blocked from your mind?" "Uh huh, Doc, my cousin Kevin, he was 15 and we were 8, he, uh, he molested me and Patton," I stated. "Parker, you're sure? This isn't something you dreamed up because you were upset?" "I know it happened, I can remember the whole thing now," I replied. "Did he, how do I put this delicately, did he penetrate you?" asked Dr. Kitridge. "No, he touched me a little and rubbed himself on me, I think he made Patton suck his dick but I'm not 100% sure. When it was over, Patton wouldn't tell me exactly what happened and he swore me to secrecy, made me promise never to tell anyone," I explained. "Was it just the one time?" asked Dr. Kitridge. "Yes, he lived in California, it happened while he was visiting with his parents, it was just the one time and he's dead now," I explained. "This is a lot of information to digest, we need to do some deep analysis and see why this affected you the way it did. I suspect you suppressed it from your memory because Patton told you to and you wanted to please him, I also suspect you have some guilt feelings resulting from the incident?" said Dr. Kitridge. "You couldn't be more right," I agreed. "I'll tell you what, you've got what, two weeks of school left before summer vacation?" asked Dr. Kitridge. "Yeah, that's right." "I'm going to recommend that you be home schooled for the last two weeks and that you and I do some intense therapy, I'm talking three sessions a week, we really need to work through this," said Dr. Kitridge. "I'll be able to go back to school in the fall, won't I?" I asked. "Of course, we just need to get a jumpstart on your therapy, it's going to be very emotional for you and I'd rather you didn't have the stress of school while we do this," said Dr. Kitridge. "Ok then, if you think it's best," I agreed. "You made a lot of progress today, Parker, it's not going to happen overnight but we're going to work through this, just keep being open and I promise you, you're going to feel a lot better," said Dr. Kitridge. I thanked Dr. Kitridge for all his help and advice and then we said our goodbyes. I looked at my watch after he left and realized we'd been talking for almost 2 hours. Peter came by while I was with Dr. Kitridge, he waited as long as he could but then he had to go back to class, that was ok, I felt sort of drained. It was a good feeling, as I explained before, I felt a little lighter after unburdening myself but it was exhausting. I started back to my room, I was going to take a nap before lunch but something stopped me in my tracks. It was music, piano music, a haunting melody was coming from the room I'd seen, the arts and crafts room with the piano and guitar in it. The music called to me, drew me in, I recognized the tune but I couldn't quite place it. I walked into the music room and I discovered Darren at the keyboard, he had his back to me and continued to play. I stood there, entranced by the music, I started to hear the lyrics in my head. "...I may seem crazy, or painfully shy, and these scars wouldn't be so hidden, if you would just look me in the eye. I feel alone here and cold here, though I don't want to die, but the only anesthetic that makes me feel anything, kills inside. I do not want to be afraid, I do not want to die inside just to breathe in. I'm tired of feeling so numb, relief exists, I find it when, I am cut..." My heart broke for him, I don't know what he was saying to his shrink, family or friends, but that music had to be an expression of the pain he felt. In that moment I understood more clearly then I had before, he was a victim, just like me. Patton was dead, taken by Derek along with a bunch of other innocent victims, Darren and I were victims too, we were collateral damage, the ones left to suffer a tragedy. When he finished the song, Darren hung his head and let out a deep breath. "That was beautiful," I stated. I startled him, he jumped up from the bench and turned, when he saw me, he backed up against the piano like a frightened rabbit. "Don't be scared, I don't want to hurt you," I explained, as I crossed the room to him. He relaxed a little, but he kept his eyes on me, he wasn't sure if he could trust me. "Can I sit with you?" I asked, gesturing at the bench. I took my seat when he nodded and then sat beside me. "I'm sorry about yesterday, I shouldn't have grabbed you like that, sorry if I scared you," I stated. "I didn't know who you were at first, you were familiar but I didn't know why I knew your face. Afterwards, I remembered seeing your face in the news, he, he killed your twin brother, didn't he?" said Darren. "His name was Patton," I replied. "I'm sorry," said Darren. "Thanks." "I'm sorry, but it's not my fault, I didn't do anything," said Darren. "I know you didn't. I thought it was my fault for a while, I'm working on that now," I explained. "Why, what did you do?" asked Darren. "I talked to your brother the night before, you know, that day," I began. "Really?" said Darren. "He waited on me at the drugstore, I wasn't very nice," I explained. "Oh," said Darren. "I felt I set him off, unleashed a monster on my own brother," I added. "He, he wasn't a monster. When we were little he used to play with me, we were buddies and then we just grew apart. I never saw any of this coming, I should have seen something, I should have stopped him," said Darren. "You're right he wasn't a monster, he was probably sick, I don't know, that's the kind of thing my doctor would say," I offered. "Mine to," said Darren. "This must be pretty miserable for you, having to live with all this," I stated. "My parents are getting a divorce, my mom cries all the time," said Darren, "I couldn't take it anymore, I had sort of a nervous breakdown." "I've had panic attacks and well, I'm on suicide watch," I replied. "Yeah, I saw your wrists," said Darren. "I was thinking, would you maybe want to try and be friends?" I asked. "Why would you want to be friends with me after what my brother did to you?" asked Darren. "Because you're not him, because maybe it would help both of us, because we're both broken and could use all the friends we can get." "Ok," said Darren. "Good, I'm very tired, I'm probably going to skip lunch but would you sit with me and my roommate at dinner?" I asked. "Yeah, I think I can do that," said Darren. "Good, that's a start, I'll see you then," I said patting him on the back. I went to my room after that and collapsed on the bed, I was exhausted. I hadn't planned for that conversation with Darren, hadn't planned to ask him to be my friend but it felt right. It felt like the first good decision I'd made since losing Patton. I slept most of the afternoon and woke up just in time for dinner, thanks to Noah, the human alarm clock. I saw Darren walk in and waved him over to the table I shared with Noah and Greg, there was nervous silence when he sat down but when Noah started complaining about the number of sesame seeds on his hamburger bun, I saw Darren smile. We didn't talk much that night but when dinner was over, Darren agreed to join us again for breakfast. I watched him get up from the table and then felt Greg pat me on the back. "What was that for?" I asked. "You know what it was for," said Greg. "Thanks," I replied. "Come on, it's time for your chess lesson," Greg smirked. "Yeah, you're mine this time," I shot back. "History would suggest otherwise but it's nice that you're optimistic," Greg chuckled. Yeah, I am optimistic, today was a good day, I smiled to myself.